


When We Find Home

by Ravennest



Category: The Last of Us, tlou - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Cordyceps Fungi, Danger, End of the World, Everyone swears a lot, Gen, Happy Ending, Immune, Jungkook is only thirteen, Minor Character Death, Namjoon is like forty, No Smut, Sad, Violence, Virus, Yoongi Swears a Lot, Yoongi is only fourteen, hurt to comfort, none of the main characters die, they are American in this, zombies/infected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravennest/pseuds/Ravennest
Summary: It’s the end of the world. The year is 2043; humanity is dead, and there are only desperate survivors fighting to stay alive just a minute longer. Infected by the Cordyceps Fungi, there now exists infected humans who can only ‘see’ through sound and crave human flesh. Traveling across the desolate United States, Namjoon and a young boy named Yoongi, brought together by desperate circumstances, must rely on each other to survive a brutal journey in order to try and save the human race.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga
Comments: 32
Kudos: 35





	1. Bite

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just the video game The Last of Us but with BTS and from Yoongi’s (who I put in as Ellie) POV. You don’t have to know the game to enjoy this.

Yoongi's brain was spinning. His thoughts firing off in a million different directions. His mind seemed to have narrowed down it's focus while also observing everything at once.

He was standing, the world felt like it was spinning or shaking violently, but he was in fact standing firm. It took him a second to recognize that the shaking he noticed, was not the world around him, but his own body as shock coursed through him like the freezing rain that was pounding down on the small Boston Quarantine Zone outside.

There was a thick scent in the air, one that Yoongi had never smelled before, but was sure he would never forget. It was rich and earthy with an underlying coat of something rotting and festering. And to top it all off the metallic scent of blood was thrown into the mixture.

His eyes danced across the scene around him. He felt like he was missing something but gathering everything as he looked. Bodies lay scattered around -- about six of them, skin lumpy and faces' torn into gaping maws as a sponge-like substance sprouted from their skin, it was white, but tinted red and yellow from the pus and blood that gathered out of the tears in the skin it grew from.

Across from him, his best friend Sean sat wheezing. The other boy was gasping and staring at Yoongi with wide eyes, fear shining in them. He had blood spattered across his face and neck and Yoongi tried to stop his own ragged breathing as his entire mind focused down on his best friend.

_ Are you ok? _ Yoongi tried to say but all that came out was "Holy fuck. We almost died." And although his voice was firm and shockingly loud, Yoongi staggered a step. He glanced down at himself, his torso and arms were coated in blood and splatters of tissue from the Infected man that had been holding him down.

"Shit." He gagged, "Jesus Sean, we -- do you -- do you think that we're safe?"

He whirled to the other boy but Sean was still staring at him with that look that was half fear half shock, his dark brown eyes flicking up and down Yoongi.

"We should barricade the door! Maybe we can climb out of one of those windows!" Yoongi whirled, a hand flying up to push his (a bit too long) black hair out of his face. He could feel sticky blood being smeared across his forehead.

"Sean, come on!" He snapped, turning back to his friend.

Sean took a deep breath. His dark green eyes locking with Yoongi's own brown ones. "Yoongi." He whispered, and it was a soft tone Yoongi had never heard before. Somehow he just knew he didn't want to hear what his friend -- maybe even more than friends -- was about to say.

"We could push those boxes up to the window!" He gasped, pointing to some heavy looking boxes that sat in the corner of the storage room they had taken shelter in. "And climb out that way."

"Yoongi." Sean's voice was louder, but Yoongi ignored him, quickly running to one of the boxes, adrenaline coursing through his body. He just had to push it up to the window, and then he and Sean would be safe. "YOONGI!"

He jerked back, turning to look at Sean. Sean, who had always been a tough, know it all, punk of a kid, and now looked close to tears. If Sean's eyes were the world -- and they had always been for Yoongi -- then it was crumbling.

"Your arm." Sean choked out, pointing down at Yoongi's left arm. Yoongi froze, his brain slowing down. His arm?

He looked down in confusion. It took him a few minutes to register what he was seeing. That through all the blood that was practically soaking his arm there was torn flesh. A place where his own skin had been torn into two almost crescent moons, almost as if something had sunk its teeth in and been ripped away.

He wiped at the blood, his mind hazy, it was probably just more of the infected's brain matter from when Sean had shot it. But more blood welled up in the wound, spilling down and around his arm and dripping hotly onto the ground. His mind slowly began to register the pain, terrible, deep and throbbing. Heat rippling through his arm up his shoulder and spreading ever so slowly.

"No, no, no, no, no, no." Yoongi whispered, his voice getting harsher as he scrubbed at the ruined flesh, panic welling in his throat as fiery pain ripped from the wound.

"Yoongi," Sean croaked again. Yoongi glanced up, blood pounding in his ears. Sean smiled, a watery pathetic smile that was more of a grimace, his face pale, eyes red and swollen. He held up his hand.

There gleaming on Sean's hand, just between the thumb and pointer finger, was the same crescent mark, blood trickling down his hand. "Oh. Oh no." Yoongi whispered.

  * ••••••••••• 2 hours earlier ••••••••••••



Yoongi was studying. It was late and technically he should be in bed. In spite of the fact that he had turned fourteen a mere week ago and was now considered old enough to move to the teenagers ward he was being forced to stay in the children's dorms which meant lights out was still at seven p.m. Which was stupid because curfew for the entire Quarantine zone starts at six pm and ends at six am. He didn't understand how they expected him to learn all about patrolling, shooting people, first aid, and his math, reading and writing all in twelve measly hours.

But it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. The military boarding school he attended was just another word for Orphanage or Abandoned to kids in the zone. Most -- if not all -- unplanned children ended up in this shitty place.

Yoongi had been here ever since he was three years old when a woman named Avery had dropped him off saying he'd be safer here than with her. But she hadn't been his mother to begin with. Yoongi's mother had apparently been very close friends with Avery and had entrusted him to her begging Avery to keep him safe as her dying wish. Yoongi didn't think she had done a very good job. Last he had heard of her she was the leader of the rebel group called the Fireflies. 

So he had stayed up late, using the flashing lights from the watchtowers on the wall that protected the quarantine zone to read and study for his upcoming math test tomorrow. He didn't see what the fucking point of it all was. The world had ended twenty years ago and crazy ass adults  _ still _ insisted on school. What was he going to do if the Infected spread into the zone? 

Throw a math book at them? Yoongi paused, looking at how thick the textbook was and raising an eyebrow. That actually might be a good weapon. Then he shook his head. He needed to focus on his math. 

About an hour later he groaned. Putting his head in his hands. He was so tired. Drills today had been brutal. And it didn't help that his best friend Sean wasn't around anymore. Sean was a wild card for sure. The other boy was a month older than Yoongi with bright brown eyes and shaggy brown hair that hung down past his ears. He always had this mischievous look that just promised trouble on his face, and he knew how to turn every bad situation into a good one.

Yoongi had known him pretty much his whole life. They had grown a lot closer in the past three months. Something that was different than friends but wasn't deep enough to be considered romantic. But about a month ago the two had gotten into a huge fight. That wasn't knew -- Yoongi and Sean always fought. They were like Cat and Dog as their teachers would say. But it was always resolved quickly and if anyone else said anything both boys got majorly defensive over the other.

Which is why Yoongi had been so shocked when his Drill Sergeant had shaken him awake the next morning after their fight demanding to know where Sean was. Ever since then Yoongi had been worried. Tense. He didn't even remember what the argument had been over, he just knew it wasn't worth it. Sean’s absence was like a steady thorn buried in his skin that grew sharper and bigger each day.

And when he had been listening to audio recordings of the infected's shrieks and sharp unnatural snapping noises today during drills he had been unable to push away the horrible thought.

_ What if Sean was so upset he ran away and got eaten by the Infected? What if he's dead and it's my fault? _

He whined softly, burying his head into his arms and tried not to cry. First Sean, now his math. Normally Yoongi was a lot tougher than this. His breathing slowly evened out as he allowed his muscles to relax. He had to get up at six in the morning and do more drills and more math. He should relax.

It was with that thought that he drifted off to sleep. He didn't dream -- normally he didn't and when he did dream it was all disturbing things that left him awake and pacing until Sean crept into his room grumbling that he could hear Yoongi's anxiety all the way across the dorms and if he didn’t settle down he'd beat his ass.

He was jolted quite rudely from the semi-peaceful blackness of his mind by a soft growling noise, it was directly in his ear and sounded very similar to the recordings of the Infected he had heard at school. Suddenly teeth clamped down on his neck. Instantly Yoongi's eyes shot open. He was up out of his desk chair in a second, right hand flicking out his pocket knife and body pinning somebody else's to the floor.

"Ow!" He heard a yelp and muffled snickers, briefly, as Yoongi blinked the sleep out of his eyes pure irritation surged through him. Was this one of the younger kids coming to mess with him again? He wouldn't let them get away with it, this time he would rough their tiny ass up just enough to prove he meant business. No questions asked he didnt care if they were smaller.

Then he blinked, vision clearing and familiar hissing laughter greeted his ears. Yoongi's eyes widened, happiness and doubt sparking through him.

Beneath him lay Sean, eyes squinted with amusement, smiling so wide it looked like his cheeks would burst.

"Ow! Ease up there Yoons! Jesus!" He groaned playfully. Yoongi was on his feet fast. His heart still pounding, hand on his neck where Sean had bitten him.

"What the fuck Sean!" He hissed quietly. "I thought I was bitten by an infected!" Sean cast him a smug look as he slowly sat up.

"Sorry I couldn't resist. You should have seen your face!" He laughed. Yoongi was not in a laughing mood, he glared at Sean as he sat up. Sean stood slowly, wincing and rubbing his side. "Ow. Jesus you really fucked up my hip Yoongi, that's gonna bruise."

Yoongi decided to ignore his complaints for now. Worry at Sean being found out and both of them getting in trouble coursing through him. He just glared at the other, fists curled tightly at his sides muscles tense. 

"What are you doing here? Where have you been this last month? I thought you were fucking dead asshole!" He spat. Sean snorted, plopping into Yoongi's desk chair.

" _ As if _ . It'd take a lot more to kill me." He looked at his hands before nervously glancing up at Yoongi. "Promise you won't tell?" He demanded. Sudden suspicion flashed through Yoongi. Sean actually looked serious, his eyes dark and intense as they locked on Yoongi.

"Of course. Your secrets are my secrets moron." Yoongi snapped. Sean smiled softly. He reached into the collar of his shirt -- a faded slightly too big jean button up -- and pulled out a necklace, quickly he tugged it over his head and dropped it into Yoongi's palm.

Yoongi stared at it in shock. Attached to the chain was a thin metal circle, emblazoned on one side was Sean's name -- Sean Winter -- and on the other side was the image of a firefly. "No way." He whispered, looking up at Sean, "You joined the Fireflies." Sean nodded. 

The Fireflies had appeared about sixteen years ago. About four years after society crumbled, Martial law was declared and the Quarantine Zones sprung up in most major cities in America. They were a rebel group trying to restore government back to America and find a cure to fight against the Infected. The firefly pendants were supposedly the same thing as dog tags.

Sean had wanted to join them since they were seven years old. Yoongi personally didn't care. He just wanted to survive.

"Pretty cool huh?" Sean grinned. Yoongi shoved the pendant back at him, apprehension flaring up inside him as he quickly turned to check the hall outside his dorm.

"You shouldn't be here." He snapped, pulling back inside. Sean cast him a hurt look but Yoongi only glared harder. "You do realize I learn drills and techniques to kill Fireflies every single day right? That if I'm caught with you -- a firefly -- in my room, it won't be cleaning duty or extra drills-- it will be a swift bullet to both of our heads!" 

"I know. But don't worry we won't get caught. I checked the night guards patrol he won't be back to the Children's Dorm for another hour. I just wanted to show you something and  _ talk _ to you. I have, something really important I need to tell you." Sean awkwardly looked away, folding his arms defensively and scuffing his foot on the worn carpet of Yoongi's dorm. 

"Spit it out then." Yoongi mumbles, now that he knew Sean was alive, a lot of mixed feelings was surging through him, anger that he had left without warning Yoongi, hurt that Sean had joined the fireflies and had left Yoongi thinking he was dead, relief and happiness that he  _ wasn't  _ dead. It was all so confusing. 

"Not here." Sean stood quickly then turned with a little grin. "Come with me?"

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, hesitation clear in every line of his body. Sean's grin turned a little more mocking, almost like a dare. "Promise I’ll get you back before drills." He smirked. Yoongi rolled his eyes, grabbing his backpack and quickly shoving his pocket knife into his shorts as he pulled them on. "Lead the way." He huffed.

  * ••••••••• 3 hours later ••••••••••



Yoongi was half screaming, half sobbing. His arm hurts and his body was throbbing from when the Infected had tackled him and scratched him. But the sound of glass shattering and the feeling of swinging the pole at said glass felt strangely soothing. With another scream he smashed the last glass tub then stood shaking.

Panting, he stopped, furiously wiping at the tears on his face and getting even more frustrated when his bloody hand just made him feel even more gross.

"Are you done?" Sean had never sounded so tired before. Yoongi looked over at Sean. His friend was leaning against the boxes, dark bags under his eyes, and a pained look on his face. It was the defeated light in his eyes that sparked something in Yoongi, a mixture of anger and fear. 

"I'd rather be doing something than sitting on my ass like a moron!" Yoongi spat. Sean just sighed, he lay his head back against the box and Yoongi's stomach tightened. It looked like he was swallowing back tears.

"And what should I be doing instead Yoongi?!" Sean demanded, voice choked. "Cause what you're doing isn't exactly helpful either."

"I don't know!" Yoongi cried, he dropped his pipe and rubbed his eyes, willing his tears to stop. God he sounded like the blubbering toddlers when they got dropped off at the Military school.

He sat down beside Sean, his breaths harsh and his blood all but boiling, the heat had spread through almost his entire body. Sean leaned against him slightly and they just sat there for a minute.

"What are our options?" Yoongi eventually whispered.

"We have two options." Sean whispers back. He held up his little pistol that Avery had given him. "We can take the easy way out."  _ Suicide _ . He didn't have to say it.

"Or?" Yoongi choked.

"Or we can try to fight it. Worse case scenario? We turn into an Infected and get shot by the military. But I kind of want to watch the sunrise and sunset with you one last time, and supposedly the fungus takes at least twenty-four hours to take over your body." Sean smiled weakly at Yoongi. 

"Ok. Let's watch the sunrise and set. Then . . ." Yoongi looked away. He didn't know what to say. 

Sean nudged him and with a forced playful look on his face said. "Then we can lose our minds together, yeah?" 

Yoongi smiled back weakly.

"Yeah." So together they pushed the big boxes to one of the huge windows lining the far right wall of the storage room, clambering on top and awkwardly opening it enough to see the slowly lightening sky outside, the rest blocked by the old cloudy glass. 

They watched the sunrise together, both completely silent. And as the hours pass they continued to watch it rise. Yoongi gripped Sean’s hand a bit too hard but he gripped it right back. The two of them silent, the air all but soaked with their fear as they felt the effects of the disease that had ruined the world and was now ruining them.

"It's hot." Yoongi whispered, the sunlight was pouring down on them now and he felt woozy. His whole arm throbbing violently. 

"I don't want to move. The sky is beautiful." Sean mumbled. Yoongi nodded tiredly, slowly leaning against Sean's side.

At some point, Yoongi fell asleep, heat pounding through his veins. His mind finally succumbing to the heavy fog and the pain. 


	2. Immune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he’s cursed. Maybe he’s blessed. Either way — it doesn’t seem fair that Yoongi didn’t get to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um, minor character death warning for this chapter! It gets pretty gory so BEWARE

When Yoongi woke his head was pounding. He felt hot and sticky and so incredibly weak, the sun had set and for one brief bleary moment he felt a terrible sadness.

He had missed his last sunset with Sean. Then he froze, heart pounding with confusion and fear, worry ripping through him -- where was Sean?

Yoongi had fallen asleep leaning against him hadn't he? Where was his best friend. He turned awkwardly. Looking down into the storage room they had taken shelter in, he relaxed. His friend was right there.

Standing in the center of the room, strangely still. A vague feeling of unease flickered through Yoongi and carefully he began to pick his way down the boxes they had been sitting on. Something inside him told him to be wary and he cautiously approached him.

"Sean?" Yoongi called hoarsely. Sean twitched, a strange noise bubbling up from him. "Sean?" Yoongi asked a little louder.

It all happened too fast for him to comprehend. One second Sean was standing still the next he had turned with a strange snarling groan and lunged at him, the scent of rot and earth hung heavy on his breath as he spat at Yoongi. Yoongi screamed, pushing up against his friend, hand instinctively twisting into his pocket to pull out his pocket knife, while his other hand kept Sean's snapping mouth away from him. He was operating on pure muscle memory as he flicked out the blade and slammed it into the side of Sean's skull.

There was a dull crunch and blood spattered out as Yoongi drew back and did it again. Lessons flashing through his mind. His teacher explaining that the Infected were afflicted with a disease called Cordyceps. A fungus that invaded it's host and caused violent behavior and then slowly took over their body.

That these were not zombies like people had originally thought. Infected were not the Undead. They were still alive, and therefore as easy to kill as any other person while they were in the early stages of infection.

Yoongi could see that strange violent light in Sean's glazed eyes die out with the second stab, his face which had been pulled back into a half grimace half snarl went slack. Devoid of life. Of any and all expression.

He slumped down heavy against Yoongi. For a moment Yoongi felt too weak to move. Simply laying there as his mind slowly returned to him and the reality of what had just happened set in. 

Yoongi sobbed, his mind spinning and arms moving to wrap around Sean, weakly moving to where he was sitting up and holding his friends body in his arms. He cried violently, clutching him to his chest with all his strength and pressing his face into Sean's hair. He smelled only like the infected did, nothing like the Sean Yoongi knew. But still he held him, crying harder than ever, feeling like his chest was splitting in two. 

He stayed there until he was too weak to cry, no real tears escaping, his throat felt raw, there was a heavy pressure settling inside him as if he had swallowed stones. Any minute now he would turn and become Infected. Any minute. 

But the minutes dragged into hours. Yoongi sat on the floor for  _ hours _ rocking the body of his best friend back and forth, mind hazy. Eventually his throat became so dry that pure instinct had him dragging himself away, his arm was burning hot as he forced himself to stand, mind delirious as he hazily staggered out of the other door in the room.

He moves sluggishly through the building, the only thought on his foggy brain was to find  _ water.  _ He wasn’t even really conscious of his movements. His head turned in the direction of where he could hear a faint rushing sound. He staggered down steps -- fell down one flight, causing a low cry of pain to rip from his throat. The world was tinted with a yellow haze as he found himself in a broken down room, there was a hole in the wall where a huge pipe ran and water was coursing through the pipe. Mindlessly, Yoongi dropped beside it, weakly leaning over and slurping at the water. His arms shook violently, pain tearing through his right one where he had been bitten, before suddenly giving out. He fell into the water with a yelp, panic briefly flaring through the fog -- he couldn’t swim. 

But that panic faded as Yoongi realized the water wasn’t deep enough for him to drown, he slumped into it, laying in the water, his head propped up on the lip of the pipe, cool relief flooding through him as the cold temperature from the water seeped into his overheated skin. Helping with the bruises and bumps from falling down the stairs and fighting with infected as well as the wound on his arm. And with the fever and pain no longer quite as sharp. Yoongi safely slipped into a deep blackness one could only find when very ill.

=====================

The week that followed was the worst of Yoongi’s life, he stayed in the water for five days as his fever ran its course before hunger forced him to crawl from it. But he was so weak, so sick from his wound, that he found he couldn’t look further than the room he was laying in for food. He managed to find a can of something in a destroyed cabinet, and when he opened it it didn’t smell bad. But he was only halfway through it when his stomach curled and he violently vomited, at this point he was shaking from the cold and hoping to feel better he crawled back to the water.

The next two days he spent slowly recovering, a heavy weight on his heart, he felt so tired. This strange empty feeling all but consuming him as he numbly poked at the wound on his arm. It didn’t look nearly as bad as it had before -- the angry red swelling was gone and although still open, he recognized from the medical training he had gone through at the Military Academy that it was healthy tissue, but he could also tell from the hideous red bumps and tight skin it would leave a vivid scar that looked just like  _ infected _ skin. 

And this was one of the sources of the crippling hole inside him. That terrible blankness. He had already locked up his memories of Sean, going into full blown hysterics and shock whenever he dwelt on them, he had subconsciously locked them down tight.

Particularly the memory of his knife crushing through Sean’s skull. 

But, it had been a  _ week _ . The longest somebody had ever gone without turning into an infected after being bitten was two and a half days. He should have turned by now. But here he was, healing as if this was just a normal wound. It left him stumped, confused. He couldn’t go back to the academy. They had weekly physical exams there and they’d shoot him without even testing him if they saw the bite.  _ Anybody  _ would shoot him. He didn’t know what to do, the thought that he was  _ immune  _ was fucking insane. 

But he couldn’t just sit here and starve to death now could he? Yoongi thought for a second, at a loss, before something flashed through his mind, the barest hints of an idea. Weakly, he staggered to his feet, peering down the pipe hole. It wouldn’t be smart to go in the direction of rushing water when you couldn’t swim — but his heart pounded in terror at the thought of traveling back through the abandoned mall. 

The place that had once seemed like a fun playground, now only promised death and despair. It was filled with infected, and Yoongi certainly felt too weak to fight them off and wasn’t sure if he was aware enough (or stable enough, his knees shook so bad when he stood) to be able to successfully and quietly sneak past them. 

That left the water pipe. It was huge, when he crouched down slightly he could easily move through it. Obviously it led to somewhere. Otherwise the water would have flooded Yoongi’s “recovery room” and he’d have drowned. A looming sense of despair crushed down on him. 

For a second he wished it had flooded, that when he had passed out from fever his head had slipped to where he drowned. He wouldn’t be in this mess then. But his idea was still tickling at the back of his mind. Urging him forward. 

He blinked, then stepped into the cold water, and winced at the feeling of a rough rusty pipe beneath his feet and briefly wondered where his shoes had gone. He shook the thought away, and crouched, slowly moving through the pipe. It was getting darker as he went, and soon he could tell by the way his legs shook and his back throbbed that he’d have to get down on his hands and knees. 

Fear was flowing through his veins like a liquid gasoline. Just waiting for a match to come and set it alight, after several seconds of creeping through the dark, the bitter smell of rusted metal stinging his nose, he had to plop down into the rushing water around his waist. Now that he wasn’t running a fever the water was bitterly cold and he shivered violently at it's touch. He sat there for a minute, inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm his racing heart and stave off the panic attack he could feel creeping up. 

_ You’re stronger than this. Remember— you’re a spitfire.  _ He thought, it was a bittersweet thought. He had been called a spitfire, firecracker, wildling, and others by  _ all _ his teachers at the academy. An insult, but also a praise. An insult because it was said when he broke the rules, when he started a brawl with the other children. A praise because it was the trademark of a  _ survivor _ . 

He could remember when he was ten years old — it was the first time he had heard it. He had yelled at First Sergeant. He still remembered the pain of being pistol whipped across the face, the way he had all but exploded back off the ground after the first brief seconds of intense pain and dizziness. He had been forced to write hundreds of lines and do a bunch of punishments afterwards. But he could still remember the way he had been easily restrained. The way the sergeant had laughed, shook him a bit, and proclaimed. 

“ _ Looks like we’ve got a spitfire!”  _ And the rest had been history. 

Yoongi closed his eyes, shaking like a leaf from the cold. He inhaled slowly, then rolled into his hands and knees, and began to crawl through the pipe. The darkness was oppressive— as if it had a force of its own, and the smell of the pipe reminded him of blood. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was before light started to return. His knees felt raw in spite of his jeans and he knew without a doubt his hands were cut, but he moved forward faster. It didn’t do him much good, once he got to the opening in the pipe he halted. It was a lot more jagged then the other one, made by an old car as if somebody had crashed into the pipeline and he could see an empty street before it. But he’d have to haul himself several feet up to be able to worm his way out then try and climb out without letting the rusted edges of the pipe cut him. He wasn’t sure, but he had probably read something about a rusty wound and how dangerous that was. He sat there in despair for a few minutes, wondering if he should attempt it or try and keep going to find an easier way out. Then he frowned, examining the area outside, he could see piles of trash and old rags, and a shirt. A tattered old shirt — but it was a shirt. And besides, at this point it was in a way better condition than his tank top. 

Without any hesitation he quickly stripped off his shirt and laid it over the rusted opening of the pipe. Inhaling he took three deep breaths before pulling. He heaved as he scrambled up, the shirt protecting him from his skin getting pierced but the edges of the pipe still scraped painfully at his abdomen and he wheezed as he forced all his strength into his shaking limbs. 

For a split second, a strike of fear that he couldn’t do it pulsed through him, his arms shaking wildly, soggy feet scrambling at the edge of the pipe, but then he was out and he collapsed on the street. 

He lay there limply for a while, not minding the way the ground pressed uncomfortably at his bare skin or how his arm felt warm and sticky. No doubt the bite had reopened. After a few minutes he stood limply, and shambled over to the pile of rags, scooping up the shirt from the top. It felt rough against his skin — sensitive and raw from him practically soaking in water for almost a week. 

Pain ricocheted through the soles of his feet and up his legs. A pained whine tore from him and he sat down, looking at his bloody feet and knees carefully before pulling rags from the pile — the cleanest ones he could find, and tying them around his bleeding feet. He examined his wounded arm critically. The shirt he was wearing covered it up but when it rode up he could see it peeking out slightly, without any hesitation he grabbed another semi-clean rag and tore it into strips, quickly binding his arm up and praying to god it didn’t get infected. 

Then he slowly stood. He had a mission to do — his idea. If he was Immune — there was only one person who he knew would take him,  _ this _ , seriously. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked this! I’d really love to know your thoughts. You can find me on Twitter @_hollow_bone_


	3. Firefly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi has an idea — a stupid one, but really what else can he do at this point?

Finding Avery was easier than he thought it would be. Yoongi was operating mostly on pure autopilot as he plowed through the Boston Quarantine Zone looking for the leader of the Fireflies. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to look long. Her crew found him first. He was searching (a bit hopelessly) through Sector Five’s downtown area, trying to ignore the looks people were giving him. Another ratty orphan on death's doorstep. It was ironic really — he ran right into Avery’s right hand man. A tall African American by the name of Josh. 

Literally, he ran right into him. They both staggered back — Yoongi had been rounding the corner of a back alley, wondering how he was going to find the Fireflies hideout when even the military couldn’t. He had been walking for too long on too little fuel and was so dizzy he had just fallen flat on his ass. His head spun for a few seconds and he reached up a hand to curl it into his matted locks, trying to stabilize the world. 

“Yoongi?” The voice was deep, and vaguely familiar, but Yoongi was focused on not dry heaving everywhere with how dizzy he was. His eyes slid closed and he groaned lowly. “Hey, kid, come on.” There was something pressed to his mouth, vaguely metallic and Yoongi opened eagerly, expecting water. Instead something hot and bitter spilled into his mouth and he shuddered violently, after a few seconds he could feel the spinning stop. His eyes slid open and he found himself staring directly into Josh’s eyes. 

The guy looked slightly confused and frustrated. He was wearing a blue t-shirt stained with dirt and old blood with holes at the hem and cargo pants — equally dirty and torn. 

“What happened to you?” He demanded coldly. “Avery has been looking for you and Sean for almost  _ two weeks  _ — we knew something wasn’t right when he didn’t meet up with his patrol that was going south.” 

_ “I-I’ve been assigned to go to the south. To the quarantine zone in Philadelphia, Yoongi. I-I wanted to at least say goodbye.” Sean’s brown eyes were turned to the ground, he looked so  _ **_meek_ ** _ shoulders curled in head bowed. It was unnatural — seeing someone who was so strong curl inward like that. Yoongi hated it.  _

_ “Look at you! Firefly on a mission!” He shoved the other boy lightly, grinning, hiding the terror that had striked through him at those words. “Do whatever you want Sean, I’m not your keeper.”  _

“But when the Military Academy reported you missing Avery got really distressed. She sent out search parties — tell me what happened.” Josh’s voice was deep and hard, his eyes as solid as obsidian. No mercy, a soldier. 

“T-Two weeks?” Yoongi croaked. Had he passed for out longer than he thought? 

“Yes?” Josh snapped. Then rolled his eyes. “You know what, you look like you need medical attention. I’m taking you to camp and you can explain to Avery what happened to you  _ and _ her most promising recruit.” 

  * ••••••••••••••



Yoongi stumbled and staggered so much that Josh ended up just picking him up. Every muscle dragged at Yoongi — begging him to sink into sleep. But he couldn’t— he was in real danger. If he didn’t tell Avery this story correctly — she’d assume he had just been bitten and  _ shoot _ him. He needed her to know the truth. She was the leader of the only group that cared about the world. She’d know what to do. 

They moved through increasingly dark and dreary back alleys. Boston was an ugly place — twenty years of no one bothering to keep up with something did that. But these alleyways were worse than any Yoongi had ever seen. When they got to an abandoned warehouse Yoongi was a ball of pure nerves and fear. Anxiety turning his belly, making his heart pound fast and strong and his breath wheeze out of his chest in panicked gasps. 

All around him there were people, sitting on rotten old couches, and chairs chatting quietly, fires burned softly with rats and other unsavory things cooking over them. They smelled like heaven to Yoongi. He had eaten rats before. Rats were  _ good  _ when you cooked them right. 

“I’m putting you in her office. She’s out on patrol, but will be back in a couple hours. And don’t even think of trying to run, there will be a guard stationed at the window and the door will be locked.” Josh deftly plopped him down on the floor of a large room. There was a shabby desk and an old cot in it as well as a bookcase full of rotten books. Josh glanced down at him, jaw tight and eyes assessing as Yoongi slumped back against the wall. “I’ll have someone bring you some food.” He finally sniffed. 

Yoongi thanked him hoarsely. 

“And water.” 

Yoongi nodded leaning back against the wall and wincing at the pain that rippled down his spine. He faded in and out as he waited, and eventually the door opened again. Josh came back in carrying a chipped bowl and a flask of water. He set both down and left again without a word. Yoongi groaned, looking down and frowning— the soup was thin, with only a few bits of veggies in it. Light. No meat. But he wolfed it down anyways. 

Then he spent nearly twenty minutes curled in on himself, refusing to throw up even as he heaved— swallowing it back down with tears and snot streaming down his face. It took a while before his body accepted it. After he cautiously sipped at the water. 

He felt a little more alert. Better after eating for the first time in almost two weeks (the can of whatever-the-hell that he had found didn't count because he threw it up.) he moved around the room clumsily, looking at all the old papers on the desk but too exhausted to make out what all the notes and maps meant. He glanced out the window and was unsurprised to see that there was in fact a guy casually sitting beside it. 

Just then the door opened and closed behind him _ ,  _ Yoongi turned but hands were grasping his shoulders, his eyes met intense blue ones and he was being guided to sit in the chair at the desk. 

“Yoongi, where have you been? What happened? Where is Sean?” Avery had a rich voice that almost flowed soothingly around Yoongi. Almost as familiar to him as Sean’s own voice. She always sounded collected and in control, even now she did. With her brown curly hair pulled back into a sharp ponytail and clear worry and concentration dancing across her face. 

“Avery.” Yoongi breathed, his hands curling around her arms. Her finger gently traced his cheek and he winced at the way it throbbed. Evidently he had a bruise there. 

“You’re injured, Josh said you were sick but I didn’t know much more. Are you sick from an injury?” She demanded calmly. Yoongi nodded numbly and her eyes glanced over his tattered clothes, focusing on the right makeshift bandages wrapped around his right arm. She reached towards it, and Yoongi reacted so fast he got dizzy. 

He jerked back as if he had been electrocuted, feet scooting himself back while his hand smacked her away and his injured arm curled to his chest. 

“W-Wait — lemme, I have to tell you, what happened first!” He wheezed. Avery looked frozen. Her eyes narrowed and he noticed one of her hands had drifted to rest beside the holster at her hip. She stared at him for a second. 

“Yoongi, show me your arm.” 

“Promise me you won’t shoot me?!” Yoongi sobbed now, “Just let me explain first and then you can shoot me?” He cried. Avery’s face looked like stone. 

“Show me your arm.” She demanded sharply. Yoongi shuddered, crying as he slowly curled his fingers through the knots holding his makeshift bandage together. He tugged at it until it was loose then began to quickly unbind it.

It looked even uglier in the light. The wound was clearly healing — the edges a soft pink, no blood or puss. But the way the scarring rippled over his skin. Made it clear where it had come from. The ugly bright pink and white lumpy skin collected like a bad patch on his forearm. 

There was the sound of metal, a gun cocking, and Yoongi looked up and found himself face to face with the barely of Avery’s gun. 

“Avery!” He cried, terror striking through him. But she didn’t flinch or even comfort him. 

“How long has it been since you were bitten?” She demanded sharply. Yoongi gulped. 

“Two weeks.” He whispered. Avery blinked in shock and confusion. 

“You’re lying.” She said coldly, and moved the gun even closer. “Tell the truth or I won’t let you speak at all.” 

“I am telling the truth! I didn’t know what to do, I was gonna kill myself but then I never turned!” Yoongi cried. Slowly and with halting breaths he explained how Sean had come and got him that night. How the two had been playing at the abandoned  _ extremely off limits _ mall since they were ten. How he had gone there with Sean expecting for a makeup from their last fight and more explanation on how he had become a firefly. How they had strayed from their normal path, been too loud, made too much noise, attracted the Infected. The terrified scramble through the mall, frantically running and hoping to escape them, being cornered in a storage room — both of them being bitten. 

Here, he faltered. Not sure how to tell her. That he had killed Sean. His breath was coming fast again. 

“Sean — h-he turned.” He said, his chest pounding eyes swollen and red, he braced himself for trying to explain just how Sean died, but Avery's hand was on his shoulder, her expression was hard to read, it was cold and unmoving as stone but there was an understanding light on her face. 

“He turned. You didn’t. You did what you had to do.” She said simply. Yoongi sobbed, the words felt like a blessing in his ears. 

_ He had done what he  _ **_had_ ** _ to do. He wasn’t a murderer.  _

She let him cry for a second, her grip on his shoulder firm, but grounding, before giving him a light shake and prompting him to continue.

Numbly he moved on, explaining how he had staggered off — unaware of what was happening but in so much pain. He explained how he had found his pipe and collapsed — expecting to die or turn. How neither had happened, how Josh had found him wandering around looking for her, two weeks later. 

“I didn’t know what to do.” Yoongi sniffled. “B-But I knew if-if anybody would believe me or at least verify whether I’m lying — it would be you.” He looked up slowly, and was surprised to see that Avery had put her gun away. 

“I’ll have my men search the mall. If there are infected there, they need to be eradicated anyways. Keeping infected contained inside the quarantine zone is stupid and dangerous. I’ll have them see if Sean’s body is still there, and search for this pipe of yours.” Yoongi bowed his head, relief spreading through him like cool water. 

“In the meantime. I’m keeping you under constant watch. If you haven’t turned by tomorrow then and only then will I believe you. You can sleep on the cot and I’ll bring you medicine for your fever, as well as clean bandages.” And just like that — she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so . . . We are a bit out of the woods in terms of extremely depressing shit. I’ll give warnings in later chapters if something bad is gonna happen. But thank God Yoongi is safe now right? 🤩 
> 
> Please let me know what you think below! And if you don’t wanna comment you can always message me any questions on twitter, my twitter handle is @_hollow_bone_ !! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this!


	4. The Smugglers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi knows what it takes to grow old in this world. And he has never seen an older person except for the general, so how did this guy manage?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter. Nothing really bad happens — just introducing some characters 🤩

The following morning, Yoongi was dragged roughly from a deep sleep. He sat up groggily, his mind much clearer after the intense medication he had been subjected to the night before. They had scrubbed him down (whilst wearing masks and gloves) and had carefully bandaged all the cuts on his body. One of them had stitched up the bite wound on his arm after administering a small amount of painkiller (just enough to wear all he felt was a sharp ache as they scraped the edges of the wound to make it bleed then stitched it together. Finally he had taken lots of antibiotics— oral of course. And then he had been given a change of clothes. 

Yoongi personally didn’t like them all that much. Jeans that were too big (they had to be tied around his waist with a rope) and a long sleeve t-shirt that had some old faded words on the front (the shirt was also too big). Then he had been given a pair of shoes — sneakers that  _ also _ were too big. He looked like he was drowning. 

After all that, it had only been natural for him to collapse into a deep sleep— even with a guard at his bedside, ready to shoot him at the first sign of him turning.

It took a few disoriented seconds upon waking up for him to figure out that he had not woken up naturally but because someone had jostled him awake. Blearily he sat up and found himself looking at Avery. 

She wasn’t looking at him, rather she was looking at her hands, beside her Yoongi saw his backpack and felt a jolt. He had been wearing that backpack when he and Sean had been attacked. It was a dark green with little monster keychains dangling from it, but in spite of it's dark colors Yoongi could see faint splatters on it. Probably blood.

Morbidly, he wondered if it was Sean’s.

“We found your stuff.” Avery said softly. Her expression was solemn, her gaze still locked on her hands. Yoongi’s eyes flitted from his backpack to Avery’s hands. Whatever she was holding gleamed dully in the sunlight streaming from the window. Slowly, she looked up, and her face was hard, eyes flashing as she held out her hand to Yoongi. 

“You should keep this.” Her voice was calm, but Yoongi could hear the strain in the words. He inched forward, stretching his hand out nervously, but what tumbled from her hand into his was a thin chain with a metal pendant on the end. With a jolt Yoongi recognized what it was. 

_ Sean Winters _ was engraved on one side of the thin metal pendant, while the other held the firefly insignia. It was Sean’s “ _ dog tags _ ”. His heart felt like it had suddenly been crumpled, pain swirling through him and down into his fingers which now were clutching the pendent too tightly. The thin metal dug into his fingers as he curled his palm against his chest. There was a sense of hopelessness that spread through him like ice. 

_ Sean, what am I going to do without you? _

Avery cleared her throat and tossed him a little bag. 

“Hurry up and change your bandages — I’m moving you to a different location. This place is under too much military scrutiny at the moment — and I’m not comfortable with you being in this part of town.” Avery said stiffly. Yoongi nodded numbly. Quickly he slipped Sean’s chain over his head. It felt like a brand was pressed into his skin where it rested between his collar bones under his shirt. Hastily he undid the bandages on his arm, opening the small bag and pulling out the thin strips of clean white cloth and antibiotics. Avery quietly instructed him whenever he hesitated — unfamiliar medicine labels flashing up at him. By the time he was done the hideous wound was covered with neat clean bandages. 

He stored the rest of the medicine in his backpack and quietly stood. As he did, he closed his eyes, momentarily stilling. 

He would fix this. Whatever it took. He knew what it meant — that he was immune. He knew it meant they thought they could find a cure. He’d do whatever it took to help them get to that cure. So that there would be no more Seans. No more infected. 

_ Whatever it takes.  _ He vowed, then marched after Avery, eyes burning with determination. 

  * •••••••••••••••••••••• — _1 week later —_ ••••••••••••••••••••••



Things were going bad for the Fireflies. Yoongi hadn’t realized just how bad they were going until Avery had taken him from the small patrol they constantly stuck with — Avery’s closest most trusted fireflies — and hidden him in an abandoned cafe. 

He had been here for two days. And if he was being perfectly honest he was beginning to get antsy. 

The past week had been a chaotic jump from place to place while Yoongi healed and regained some of the weight he’d lost. She had found him a tight long sleeve shirt that clung to his arms so the sleeves wouldn’t fall back to reveal the vivid scarring that remained, and she had also gotten him a pair of jeans that fit more than the old ones but were still a little loose . But she hadn’t found him new shoes, explaining that he would have a growth spurt soon, so the too big shoes had to remain. 

In the short times he did see her he would always ask what the plan was — what was happening. Where were they going and what were the fireflies planning? 

“We have to travel a long distance to get you to Headquarters. All the way across the country. Farther than you can even  _ imagine _ .” She had smiled slightly at him while saying this. Yoongi hadn’t believed her until she had found a map of the US. It had been shocking — just how  _ small _ Boston was on it. 

She hadn’t pointed out where they would be ending up — but had gestured very vaguely to the east side. So  _ far away _ . 

“We need to get you over there, they have doctors and scientists still alive and working equipment. They could find a  _ cure _ with your help Yoongi.” Avery’s eyes had been bright with a strange light Yoongi had never seen before but recognized all the same.  _ Hope.  _ It had shined in her eyes, in her crew's eyes. They had started getting more aggressive and violent towards the military — gathering guns and ammo and supplies — even a Hummer. All for the trip East. 

So far — Yoongi knew he would be at the capitol building in Boston by Saturday afternoon. It was currently Friday. The capitol was outside of the Boston Quarantine Zone, and the thought of finally leaving this wretched place left a nervous shaky feeling in Yoongi’s limbs. 

He had never been outside the walls. 

Avery had left him that morning with a wink and a promise that she would be back by noon. But it was past noon. And Yoongi had heard an explosion and gunshots just outside. 

His stomach was twisting violently.  _ Avery _ was supposed to take him to the capitol building — where they would join up with a larger crew. But he was now worried that something had gone terribly wrong. This entire week he had gotten the impression that Avery was extremely punctual. That, if she said a time she would be there at that time. 

But noon had come and gone, and it was closer to the evening now, the sun sinking lower in the sky. And the gunshots he had heard, had made him even more worried. 

Yoongi was frozen, anxiety and fear turning in his belly. It had been a good while since the last gunshot, almost a half hour, and Avery wasn’t back yet. 

Suddenly he heard a creaking noise — not from the door that led out of the cafe but to the one that led to the kitchens in the place. He stiffened as the low murmur of voices reached his ears. One distinctly deeper and rougher than the others. 

Yoongi had moved to the side of the door with his knife in his hand in less than ten seconds, his heart beating wildly — if it wasn’t Avery, or someone he recognized, he was going to stab them. He had something important he was supposed to be helping with. He didn’t balk at the thought of it.

A deep ache spring through his chest. Not after he had killed his best friend. Why would he balk at killing a stranger? Adrenaline pumped crazily through his veins as the handle of the door moved, a woman’s voice wheezed something out — and then the handle was turning, the door pushing in. Someone fell into their hands and knees. 

Relief flooded Yoongi as he recognized Avery’s wild hair pulled back into a ponytail, but that relief quickly turned to worry when he noticed the blood coating her side. 

A man crouched over Avery, he was saying something too soft for Yoongi to hear but he had never seen this man before — and instant anger rushed through him. 

“Get the fuck away from her!” He yelled, and lunged forward with his knife. He hadn’t moved far when his arm was caught in a strong tight grip, pain ricocheted from the too tight grip, he gritted his teeth with a hiss, and found himself staring into dark brown — almost black — eyes. 

“Hey! Drop the knife, kid!” The woman that was holding him said it in a harsh voice, her face was thin and lean with dark brown hair cut close to the scalp. Her grip tightened on his right arm — over his still healing arm and Yoongi gasped. 

“Let him go!” Avery’s voice was breathless, but stronger and more commanding than Yoongi had heard it since she threatened to shoot him. The woman’s lip curled and she shoved him away from her and the man. The man leaned over to make a soft inquiry to Avery that Yoongi couldn’t quite hear. 

“He’s not one of mine, Joon.” She snapped back at him. Yoongi narrowed his eyes. These two people clearly weren’t Fireflies. But there was a strange energy that came from them. 

The man was tall, and asian, he had thick black hair that was shaggier than his partner. Some of the strands were gray and Yoongi felt momentary unease. 

You didn’t live to be old in this world. He had only seen one other older person and that was the General of Boston. A man who never had to fight and got to stay out of danger in his office. 

The fact that this man was older said a lot about him. He was wearing an old slightly bloodied short sleeve, black t-shirt. There were tears at the collar, jagged and threaded as if something had dug claws or fingers in and  _ ripped _ . He had lines on his face and thick stubble of a forming beard. His eyes were deeply lined and dark, glittering with knowledge and that violent light only  _ true _ survivors had as they flicked up and down Yoongi almost dismissively. 

_ He had to have been alive before the world went to shit. _ Yoongi blinked nervously stepping back and quickly glancing at the woman. 

She was white, her own eyes just as hard as her companion — Avery had called him Joon — that same look that was hard as flint. But she was significantly younger than the man. There were no lines on her face, she had to be in her early thirties late twenties. She had been a child when the outbreak happened. She had dried blood smeared across her neck and Yoongi suddenly knew with unflappable certainty that these two had been in contact with the infected in the past twenty-four hours. 

His confusion and nervousness increased. 

Then his gaze flicked to Avery and instant concern shot through him. She was clutching at her bloody side, soft pant coming from her mouth as she leaned against the old rotten counter of the cafe. 

“What happened?” He demanded worriedly, rushing over to her as he put his knife up. His medical training from the military academy mixing with the facts Avery’s own Fireflies had taught him this past week. “Are you ok?” He asked softly. Avery gave him a slight smile before her face settled down behind the hard expression she used when she was being a  _ leader _ . The one that hid all her true feelings. 

“It’s just a graze, easily fixed.” She shook off the hand Yoongi had used to help steady her and gestured back at the two people behind them. 

“I got us help.” She said softly, and Yoongi froze, his heart pounding as her gaze lifted to his, steady and calm. “But I can’t come with you.” She said softly. 

Instantly Yoongi knew what she meant. She had told him that she was struggling to find people that could help her get him out of the Quarantine Zone without being caught, that the only person she had gotten in contact with was a lying cheat that had only given them half the guns and ammunition they required to distract the military enough to take the Hummer. 

She was saying that these people would get him out. But that she wouldn’t be coming with him. That he would be getting to the capitol building with literal strangers, and traveling all the way east with a different Firefly crew of more strangers. 

“No. I’m staying with you.” Yoongi quickly hissed, his heart was pounding in his throat — the thought of being truly alone sent a jolt of pure fear through him. He had been abandoned too much, he couldn’t bare for her to as well. 

“Yoongi, the military took a major hit today. They won’t be able to fill in the holes we created for your escape until tomorrow— security is more lax then it will be again.” She leaned forward, an intense look in her blue eyes as Yoongi backed away. “We won’t get another shot at this.” 

“Woah, woah, woah,” the man stated moving forward. “We’re smuggling  _ him _ ?” His voice was rough and deep with some accent Yoongi didn’t really recognize, incredulous.

Evidently he wasn’t the only one surprised by this turn of events. 

“Not far Joon. There’s a crew of fireflies that will meet you at the capitol building.” She inhaled to continue but the woman suddenly moved forward as well. 

“That’s not exactly close.” She said darkly, her eyes narrowed harshly down at Avery and Yoongi normally would have flared back at the woman but he was still too shocked as this new development. 

Avery was giving him to some random  _ smugglers. _ Avery snorted at the woman’s words, a dark amusement shining in her eyes. 

“We both know that you and Namjoon are more than capable of making it there Jules.” She snapped, then shifted with a wince, her hand pressing harder to her bloody side. “It’s a simple job, you get him there safely, hand him off and then come back and the weapons are yours. Double what Tony sold me.”

Yoongi didn’t know what was going on, but he felt worry ripple through him. Avery was giving away the guns the Fireflies had just gotten? 

“Speaking of those weapons — where are they?” The woman, Jules, demanded. Avery hissed, clear annoyance in her next words. 

“Back at camp.” She gritted out. There was a hard defiant expression on Jules's face, she turned to look at Namjoon — who had been strangely quiet — and Yoongi almost missed the slight nod. 

“We aren’t smuggling shit until I see them.” She snapped. Yoongi had a sudden strike of inspiration. 

_ She acts like she’s the leader of their duo. That way people overlook him.  _ But Yoongi would bet a months worth of ration cards that  _ Namjoon _ was the real danger. Avery groaned, her head falling forward and Yoongi felt his hand automatically grip her sleeve in worry. 

“You can come with me. I’ll get patched up while you examine the weapons.” Avery suddenly sat up, pushing herself off the table, she shook out of Yoongi’s grip and pointed back at him. “But he isn’t going anywhere near that side of town.” 

Yoongi blinked, he didn’t even have time to wonder if he would have to remain here alone  _ again _ for a whole night before Avery was talking once more. 

“I want Namjoon to watch over him.” She said calmly. The words were barely out in the air before both Yoongi and Namjoon started protesting. 

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.” Namjoon's voice was hard but Yoongi almost exploded with rage as he gestured furiously back at the older man. 

“ _ Bullshit  _ — I’m not going with some random fucking stranger —“ 

“Yoongi.” Avery’s voice was tired and soft. Yoongi felt the anger and fear die down as he truly took her in. She was pale and had dark circles under her eyes. She suddenly looked so much older. Closer to forty than the thirty-two Yoongi knew she was. He suddenly felt guilty. 

This world was harsh and cruel, and Avery was the leader of the Fireflies, had a lot on her plate, and she was doing her best. But his constant arguing wasn’t making it easier. He could feel the fight leave him and visibly knew he had probably sunk down a bit. 

“How do you know them?” He asked softly. 

“I was close with his brother Jin, we were best friends and he said if I was ever in a tight spot, that I could rely on Namjoon.” She said softly, and Yoongi felt something turn inside him. 

It helped, knowing she wasn’t just passing him off to random strangers, that she knew them and trusted them. But then Namjoon spoke up from behind him. 

“Yeah was that before or after he left your little militia group?” His voice was dark and heavy with sarcasm. Avery glared at him, fire and hurt in her eyes. 

“He left you to.” She snapped, her voice was hard and cold as she said. “Jin was a good man. Too good for this shitty world.” Namjoon’s eyes narrowed and Yoongi suddenly was worried that this guy they were talking about was  _ dead _ . 

“Look just.”Jules moves slightly in front of Namjoon, staring up calmly into his face. “Just take him to the North tunnel, I’ll go check out the merchandise and make sure we aren’t wasting our time.”

“Christ.” Namjoon hissed, turning and rubbing his eyes. 

“He’s just cargo Joon.” Jules snapped, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

Yoongi hesitated, uncertainty spreading through him at the words and turned to give Avery a pleading look. 

“Avery,” he tried, his voice soft and full of doubts, vulnerable in a way Yoongi had only allowed himself to be around  _ him.  _

“No more talking.” Avery said, just as softly as Yoongi but with pure command in her voice. “Namjoon and Jules are very smart, they’ll keep you safe.” Gently she patted Yoongi’s shoulder, but he moved out of her touch, unable to keep the hurt from his expression. Her expression darkened, and she swallowed before murmuring. 

“I’ll see you at Headquarters. Now go with him.” Then she moved to the back door of the cafe — the one they had entered in through. Yoongi turned, his expression carefully blank as he looked at the two strangers before him. They were staring hard at each other, arguing with their eyes, after a minute it seemed Namjoon had lost cause he sighed harshly.

“You had better hurry up.” He snapped at Jules, then turned to Yoongi. “And you had better keep up.” 

Then Jules was walking quickly after where Avery had been, and Yoongi was following Namjoon out of the front doors of the cafe, leaving the last person he considered slightly family behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I hope you guys liked it? If you have any questions please feel free to ask! If you want I post updates about the story and random blurbs on Twitter @_hollow_bone_ ! Come follow me there! 🤩


	5. Namjoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi doesn’t know or trust this guy, but he’ll follow him. For Sean — he’ll do anything to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna make it clear. There will be No romantic relationship between Namjoon and Yoongi! Yoongi is fourteen, and Namjoon is like, in his late forties/early fifties. PLEASE DO NOT THINK OR ASK IF THEY'RE THE SHIP — THEY ARE NOT.

“Keep up.” Yoongi resisted the urge to growl at the gruff tone. 

“I am!” He snapped. They were walking down a thin alleyway between buildings, military cars were roaring past behind them, and over head the speakers all over the city were announcing that it was past 6pm and anyone found still on the street would be arrested. 

Yoongi felt nauseous and uncertain, his belly was lurching uncomfortably. Namjoon was a complete stranger, his face was hard and unyielding. His eyes dark and clearly unhappy with having Yoongi with him. It was only natural that he hung back, that unease rippled through him when he got too close to him. 

He watched as the elder man just made a “tch” noise under his breath. They had their way into a back alley and Namjoon completely ignored him as he pulled an old garbage container from the cubby it was in. The thing was stuffed full of old rags and cloth that hadn’t decayed yet and Yoongi was a little surprised it was still here. 

The military had made a point of taking all the dumpsters like this after people had started using them as housing instead of their Military mandated housing. 

Although Namjoon pulled it out with relative ease due to the wheels on the bottom — Yoongi couldn't help but be impressed. Even with wheels the thing had to weigh several hundred pounds and even though Namjoon looked like he was in his late forties/early fifties he didn’t struggle at all. 

He pushed it up against the bars of an old fire escape. 

“Come on. We need to get up there.” Yoongi blinked at the rough tone, nervously moving forward slightly to look at the open door way that was at the top of the fire escape. Maybe two stories up. Namjoon didn’t wait for Yoongi’s reply as he pulled himself onto the trash can and then onto the fire escape. 

Yoongi waited until he was half way up the first flight of stairs before quickly running forward, heaving himself up onto the trash an and then the fire escape with loud clanging as his foot wrenched one of the old rusted bars pushing himself up. 

“Try not to make this much noise when we get outside the walls!” Namjoons voice was thick with sarcasm as he looked over the railing down at Yoongi. Yoongi glared. 

“Fuck off!” He snapped automatically. Namjoon rolled his eyes as he leaned back, but for just a brief second — Yoongi thought he had seen a flicker of amusement deep in his eyes. He took the stairs two at a time to catch up with the elder. 

He was only about five feet behind him now and Yoongi slowed his pace as they entered the building. Curiosity strumming through him as he examined the smugglers tattered backpack. It was one of the older versions of the military backpacks. Durable brown leather that had been duct taped and stitched back up a million times. Yoongi didn’t know a lot about the outside world — but he did know that anything you carried had better fit in your backpack otherwise it wouldn’t be going with you. 

“So. . . “ Yoongi called, and he could practically see the (figurative) hackles rise on the guy as his back stiffened. “You smuggle things?” Yoongi chirped, a deep bolt of excitement rushing through him. He  _ loved _ ticking off adults. Especially ones that couldn’t hurt him. Something about the way they would glare at him as if they  _ wanted  _ to shoot him but couldn’t. It made his hands itch and his blood burn with adrenaline and his own destructive instincts. 

“Yes.” The response was short, the southern accent in the man’s voice thicker as he snapped the words out. Yoongi adopted a faux air of innocence as he picked up his pace to be almost right next to Namjoon. Just a few feet behind him. 

“Liiike . . . illegal things?” He demanded, drawing the first word out in a way that had always made the Dorm Caretaker all but snarl at him. 

“Yeah, sometimes.” Namjoon’s voice was still tight and hard. Matter-of-a-fact almost. 

“Ever smuggle a kid?” Yoongi asked, real curiosity strumming through him. Sometimes kids that strayed too far would be nabbed for bad reasons. So smuggling them was pretty common — if Namjoon smuggled children often then Yoongi didn’t think he’d be able to even look at the man. 

“No. Thats a first.” Namjoon glanced back. “I don’t smuggle people. Nothing  _ alive _ .” They walked on in silence for a few seconds. Yoongi contemplating the man’s words, happy that he didn’t participate in the act of hitting children, and briefly wondering if that meant he  _ had _ smuggled  _ dead _ bodies. But surprisingly Namjoon spoke up. 

“So what’s the deal with you and Avery? What the hell did you do to get her gunning for you?” He demanded. And Yoongi was alarmed to realize that Namjoon was walking at an angle, those dark intelligent eyes locked on Yoongi and no doubt absorbing every detail. 

“I-I don’t know.” Yoongi blurted, too alarmed at the sudden shift to think up a good excuse, he had to force himself to keep walking, shoving his hands in his pockets and awkwardly rolling his shoulders so that he wouldn’t touch the bite mark on his arm. “She’s. . . my friend. I guess.” 

_ Friend _ seemed like a stretch. Reluctant Guardian was closer to the mark. Yoongi only knew that her and his mother had been  _ very _ close friends when the outbreak happened, and that his mom had all but begged Avery to take care of her son. 

But at his words Namjoon merely snorted softly, walking forward faster and no longer focused on Yoongi. 

“Your friend.” He rolled his eyes — and Yoongi was pretty sure the man had heard the blatant hesitance and confusion in his words at how to label her. “You’re friends with the leader of the Fireflies — what are you twelve?” 

_ Oh _ . He was thinking that Yoongi couldn’t possibly be telling the truth cause of his  _ age _ . A hot rush of anger roiled through him. They had rounded a turn in the hallway now and were now climbing stairs, Yoongi had to take them nearly three at a time to keep up with Namjoons brisk pace. 

“Look it’s complicated, she knew my mom and watches over me. And I’m fourteen! Not that  _ that _ has anything to do with well  _ anything! _ ” Again Yoongi could almost detect a faint amusement in the glance Namjoon sent back at him. But it was fleeting and Yoongi glared harshly back as the calm calculating look slid back into Namjoons face. 

“Where are your parents? Why did they shove you off on her?” He demanded coldly. The phrasing stung, it implied that Yoongi hadn’t been wanted. And sure Avery had never specified if his mom was dead or alive but the fact she had been so desperate to get Avery to take care of him  _ had _ to have ment she cared about him. At least a little. 

And God only knew who his dad was. 

“Where are anyone’s parents these days? Kids are just a burden.” Yoongi sighed. His voice was softer and more melancholy than he had wanted it to be, but the words were already out. 

“So instead of just staying in school you decided to up and join the Fireflies huh?” 

_ No, I was gonna be a nurse. The one that ran out to join the Fireflies was Sean.  _

The thought was like a bolt of lightning, pulsing with pain and anger through him and Yoongi glared harshly at the man’s back, his arms folding defensively as the stepped out of the stairs and began to head down another hallway.

“Who cares about school?! It’s fucking useless unless they’re teaching me survival! And I’m not supposed to tell you why you’re smuggling me! If that’s what you’re getting at!” He lashed out, making his voice hard as they stopped at a pair of large doors. Namjoon snorted, as he opened it to reveal a long hall with lots of apartment doors. 

“You wanna know the best thing about my job? I don’t give two shits what I’m smuggling or  _ why  _ as long as I get paid.” He snapped. Yoongi bristled. 

“Well great!” His voice pitched in an overly peppy tone, practically teeming with passive aggressiveness. 

“Good.” Namjoon nodded. They continued to the last door on the hall in silence, and Yoongi noted with some surprise that all the other doors had military locks on them, which meant this whole building was supposed to be sectioned off. No wonder they had to enter it in such a shady way. 

He watched as Namjoon pulled a set of keys from his worn down jeans and unlocked the final door at the end of the hall, Yoongi followed him inside as Namjoon turned to close the door behind them. 

“This is it.” He said coldly. Yoongi glanced around curiously. The room wasn’t exactly large, it had a small old chair stationed by a large window to the right was an archway leading to a kitchen where he could see a ration box on the counter and there was a very tall rather out of place shelf on the other side of the room. The walls were decorated with a dull blue patterned wallpaper that was peeling atrociously in some places and there was a actually decent looking couch with a table with notes scribbled on it to the left. 

For a brief second Yoongi playfully entertained the thought that the walls were morphing and merely shedding their skin, it was something he used to do with Sean — make cool stories out of ruin. And the second he remembered that all his amusement faded. 

With a jolt he noticed that Namjoon had stretched out on that couch, his head propped up with one arm while the other lay calmly over his belly. It couldn’t be comfy, the man hadn’t even bothered to take his backpack off. But his eyes were already closed as if he was planning on taking a nap. That was the last thing Yoongi wanted — to be left alone with his thoughts while the sun set and vicious clouds boiled in the distance. 

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asked sharply. Namjoon cracked open an eye and examined him indifferently before it slid closed again. 

“Killing time.” He mumbled. Yoongi rolled his eyes, irritation flicking through him. 

“What am I supposed to do?” He meant it in a way that would hopefully give him some direction. Some restraints. Do’s and don'ts if you will. Just so that he could wander around the apartment and examine things without getting yelled at when Namjoon woke. 

“I’m sure you will figure that out.” Namjoon murmured. Yoongi sighed softly. He glanced around and figured his safest bet would be to stare out the window until Jules arrived. But as he examined Namjoon and moved towards the chair he noticed something with a jolt. There was a watch on Namjoons wrist. It looked old and worn and the glass on the front was cracked, the clock hands loose. 

“Your watch is broken.” He blurted without thinking, and for a second Namjoon went completely still, his breathing halted and his face twitched. But after a few seconds he went lax again, and Yoongi shrugged figuring the man was purposely ignoring him. 

He took his backpack off and sat in the chair and resisted the urge to sigh — it was very soft and comfortable. He pulled his feet up under him, resisting the urge to rip off his shoes at the uncomfortable way they caught on the edge of the chair. Then he turned his gaze to the view outside of the window. 

His backpack clutched to his chest, he examined the heavy clouds as the last of daylight slowly began to trickle away. 

God the wall was  _ right there. _ It was strange, seeing that the only thing separating them from the infected outside was a wall that wasn’t even a foot thick and was barely thirty feet tall. It looked so  _ fragile _ . His eyes strained as he stared at the dark grounds below, trying to make out what was beyond it through the glare of the military headlights. He knew the infected couldn’t register lights anymore so that was one thing that remained super bright. 

Barely he could make out two huge buildings leaning against one another, several small dilapidated buildings around them. But nothing concrete. Wearily he wondered where the capitol building was and what that looked like. 

What did the  _ world _ look like? A deep hunger sprang in his belly. Yoongi’s eyes practically bore into the old glass, too intense and dark for a kid his age. He wanted to see the sandy deserts and wild mountain areas described in his books. The strange little town's and the thick woods that surrounded them. Rivers and streams and  _ animals.  _ Yoongi wanted to see the world. There  _ had _ to be something beyond this shaggy Quarantine Zone. The nasty rotten buildings and the freezing cold winters and the ruthless military. 

Yoongi was sick of this place. Of being trapped here for ‘survival’. If you had talked to him about this stuff a month ago, he would have claimed that he thought survival was more important. But not after what he had to do to survive. Surviving wasn’t worth it if it meant this pain.

Yoongi didn’t want to survive. He wanted to  _ live.  _ Live so he could fix this world, fix the shitty problems in it. Help people. Live so people would no longer have to just  _ survive. _ So that others could live as well. 

He didn’t know how long he spaced out, but night had fallen, and rain was splattering against the window as the heavy storm clouds finally arrived. He was jerked from his intense thoughts when on the couch Namjoon made a faint pained gasping noise, his hands twitching and a deep frown crossing his face before he jerked up, eyes dark. 

“Bad dream?” Yoongi asked softly, turning his gaze back to the window. 

“Ugh, yeah.” Namjoon groaned. Yoongi sighed, sympathy rushing through him. He hadn’t been able to sleep peacefully since he was bitten, his dreams were washed with blood and screams. 

“I hate when I get those.” He said softer still.

“Yeah, so do I.” Namjoon murmured into his hand as he rubbed his face. He stood and walked over to stand slightly beside Yoongi’s chair, and Yoongi turned away to stare back outside. 

“I, uh, I’ve never been this close. To the outside.” He admitted softly, a strange nervousness creeping into his voice — he leaned forward trying to hide it. “It’s so dark!” He whispered, half in amazement, half in confusion. Namjoon shifted beside him but said nothing. 

“It can’t be any worse out there.” He grumbled, but at the deafening silence from the older beside him, a small ominous feeling struck Yoongi and he turned to Namjoon with a slightly worried frown, eyes searching. 

“Can it?” He asked, unable to hide the slight fear in his tone. 

Namjoon had begun to walk away from his chair but with these words he whirled back around, dark lines stretching across his face in the faint lighting. His hair looked all silver, none of the black visible in daylight picking up on the light. Making him look like he was in his late sixties rather than his late forties. Like he was some being that had lived too long and seen too much. 

“What on earth do the Fireflies want with you?” He demanded, and there was a strange, rough note to his voice, it grated on Yoongi’s ears and throat and made him feel slightly small. Made Yoongi feel his age, like he was just a kid. He opened his mouth to answer, the lie already sitting heavy in his throat, but at that exact moment the front door flew open. 

Both Yoongi and Namjoon turned to see Jules walk in. She was slightly wet from the rain but calm. She closed the door quickly behind her.

“Hey.” She gasped and Yoongi realized with a jolt that she was slightly out of breath. “Sorry I took so long getting back, soldiers are fucking crawling  _ everywhere _ after we killed that one patrol.” She panted. Yoongi’s eyes widened and flew to Namjoon. 

They had killed soldiers earlier. It shouldn’t be shocking, they  _ were _ criminals and Yoongi knew the Fireflies killed soldiers every day. But for some reason it was. She gave Yoongi a slight smile, amused by his reaction. 

“We’re taking you.” She said to him then turned to Namjoon, eyes practically sparkling. “Look I saw the merchandise and it’s a  _ lot.  _ Almost three times what we had before.” Her head tilted and Yoongi barely caught the soft. 

“Wanna do it?” Namjoon sighed, his gaze flicking off to the side. 

“Let’s get going.” He grumbled. Jules nodded a quick nod and turned towards the shelf while Namjoon moved with her. With a soft grunt they had picked up the shelf and moved it quickly to the side and Yoongi realized why he had thought it was so odd earlier. There was a hidden narrow hole behind it, and Namjoon gestured for him to follow Jules as she squeezed through it. Yoongi pulled on his backpack and quickly followed suit. And he heard Namjoon slide the shelf back in place behind them. It had a handle carved into the back of the wood. 

He turned and was a little surprised to see they were in a small empty room with another door — probably to a closet or so one would think, but Yoongi would bet a hundred ration cards it did not lead to a closet. Jules was staring at the rain outside with a disgusted frown. 

“Don’t you think it’s strange that the Fireflies reached out to us, of all people to do their smuggling?” Namjoon asked evenly, a probe, he wanted to see if Jules had found anything out. She shrugged. 

“Not really, they’re a little desperate. Military is really cracking down on them and they’re dropping like flies. Avery wanted to take him herself, was actually really upset that she couldn’t.” Jules shook her head and Yoongi felt a burst of warmth towards Avery. She hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to abandon him. 

“We were in no way her first choice.” Jules cast a slightly smug look at Namjoon. “Or her second, third, or fourth for that matter.” Namjoon snorted, rolling his eyes at his partners look, but Jules continued on in a bored tone. “She’s lost a lot of men and beggars can’t be choosers.” 

“Yeah, well,” Namjoon rolled his shoulders with an uncomfortable look. “Let’s just hope there’ll be someone alive to pay us.” Yoongi felt his heart squeeze, he hadn’t realized how hard things were for Avery right now, and a jolt of worry ripped through him. 

“Someone will be around.” Jules said confidently. She turned back to the window and ‘tsked’. “Rain. Always a bad sign.” She grumbled. 

“Harder to get spotted and be heard.” Namjoon pointed out, but she just shook her head turning to open the closet door. 

“Easier to get sick.” 

Yoongi had guessed correctly about the closet. It led to a small dark room that he quickly followed Jules into, there was a strange slightly elevated huge wooden and metal platform that Jules had him stand beside her on, and off to the side was a red generator. Namjoon leaned over and pulled the cord that started the generator three times, and it roared to life. Yoongi winced — he could only imagine how terrible this would be if infected were around. 

A switch he hadn’t noticed lit up behind them — two buttons on it, the one on top shining red and the one on bottom shining green, and Namjoon stepped on to the platform, and pressed the green button.

The platform jolted before it began to lower and Yoongi staggered in surprise, but Jules had evidently expected this and was gripping his backpack. 

“Who’s waiting for us at the drop?” Namjoon called over the weird groaning noise of the . . . elevator they were on. Jules shrugged. 

“Said there were some Fireflies that had traveled all the way from another city,” she turned to give Yoongi a hard look. “Boy must be important.” Yoongi shifted uncomfortably and her eyes narrowed. 

“What do they want with you? You some big wigs son?” Yoongi wanted to laugh and glare at the same time. But instead he adopted an awkward look. 

“Something like that.” He mumbled evasively. The elevator jolted to a halt in another empty room with old water heaters in it, and a huge hole in the wall that had red lights in it — if that was where they were headed they’d have to crawl through it. Namjoon stepped off the elevator and picked up what looked like a map from an old table. He examined it carefully for a few seconds. 

“How long is this gonna take?” Yoongi asked Jules nervously. 

“Not long. If everything goes as planned, we should get you there in a few hours — so first light.” She smiled at him and Yoongi smiled nervously back, then followed her off the elevator over to stand slightly behind Namjoon. She peered over his shoulder and asked something to quietly for Yoongi to hear but he heard Namjoons reply. 

“They say patrols have been tighter but less thorough and easier to slip past. The schedule has changed as well. We should be fine for the next hour — the most recent patrol should have passed by now.” He grumbled. Then folded the map back up and put it into his backpack. 

Yoongi watched quietly as he glimpsed what was in the man’s backpack. A plastic bottle full of some liquid, carefully folded  _ white _ rags. Papers. There was a shirt as well. His vision was cut off as Jules stepped in front of him, drawing his attention. 

“Yoongi listen. When we get out there — things will be touch and go. The first thirty minutes are crucial.” Her eyes were hard as she said this, cold and clean as they examined him. “The military shoots anyone that loiters outside the walls. And if they find out we’re already citizens they will use any method to find out  _ how _ we got out.” She leaned forward, her hand clasping his shoulder tightly and pulling him closer, her expression so intense Yoongi wanted to shove her hand off and back up a few steps. 

“You need to stay right with us, and follow any and all commands without question. Are we clear?” Yoongi gasped as her grip tightened painfully and jerked back with a glare. 

“Crystal,” He spit. Right as Namjoons hoarse voice called back to them.

“Through here.” The man was crouched down so he could fit into the smaller tunnel with red lights. Yoongi was a little amazed at how easily he and Jules began to move through it. He had to go on his hands and knees so as not to fall and the gravel grated against his palms. When they got out they were in a much much smaller room. There was nothing in this room — but Yoongi could hear the loud sound of rain and there was a faint click as Namjoon turned on a flashlight. It was one of the military issued ones that could be restarted when you shook it.

But Yoongi’s eyes were focused on the ladder Namjoon was now moving up. 

“Check if it’s all clear.” Jules hissed. 

“No shit.” Namjoon growled back. Carefully he lifted the hand with the watch on it and pressed the ceiling of the room. It lifted and Yoongi realized with a jolt it was a  _ board. _ He watched as Namjoon peered out for a few seconds, then calmly moved the board to the side. “It’s clear.” He called down softly. Instantly Jules was climbing the ladder after him and Yoongi after her. 

As he heaved himself up over the edge of the hole he jolted as he noticed Namjoon carefully putting the board back in place, they were situated deep in some kind of huge ditch just outside the wall. The hole they had just come out of was buried behind a bunch of old planks awkwardly stacked but so degraded they blended naturally. 

Yoongi moved out from under their protection and didn’t even flinch as the cold rain almost instantly soaked him. The mud squelched awkwardly beneath his shoes and with it being so dark and stormy it was hard to see. This spot was located right at the blindspot between the military lights. In front of him he could make out chunks of ripped up road and broken pipes. Old cars so rusted and faded they looked more like boulders were half sunk into the ground and a huge eighteen wheeler’s trailer was hanging down into the ravine. 

This had been a road. Not a ditch. The thought struck him like a harsh slap. 

“Holy shit.” Yoongi breathed. “I’m actually  _ outside _ .” Outside the wall, the Quarantine Zone where he had been trapped all these years. Free. 

“Don’t celebrate too fast kid.” Jules grumbled. Her short hair looked spiked in the rain and Yoongi could see that some of the dirt and blood from earlier had already been washed off by it. 

“This rain isn’t gonna do us any good.” Namjoon groaned. 

Yoongi knew that was the truth. He knew that if you didn’t get your clothes dry after it stopped raining you could get really sick. Or you could get horrible rashes from the constant rubbing movement while you walked. Your skin could get sensitive and raw. Luckily — he had had that happen to him so many times his inner thighs had developed thick calluses. Now the only place that happened was occasionally his underarms. Which always sucked.

“Nothing we can do about it. The kid needs to be there by dawn.” Jules grumbled. Namjoon nodded, and moved forward, Jules fell into step behind him, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions from earlier. 

_ Jules isn’t the boss when there’s real danger _ . He followed them quietly. Content with examining the ruined landscape around him. Surprised at the devastation. He knew that the military made sure to at least try and maintain the Quarantine Zone a little, but could the elements alone really do so much damage over the course of twenty years?

If that was the case — In another twenty there would be nothing of the humans left. Yoongi glanced at the thick grass growing on the higher ridges of the ravine, the small bushes and trees. 

_ In just a few more years this will be a  _ **_forest_ ** _. _ He had never seen a forest. 

There was a clanging noise to his right and Yoongi turned with a jolt, realizing that Namjoon had crawled up into the huge eighteen wheelers back end. He was moving up the slick holding with ease — there was no truck it was just the cargo hold. Yoongi followed behind them a little unsteadily, his feet slipping as he crawled up as well. He could see Namjoon and Jules were almost at the end, Namjoon stepped out onto the ground, and a loud  _ crack!  _ ripped through the air, as if in slow motion Yoongi watched as a black figure stepped from the side and slammed a gun into the back of Namjoon’s head — he staggered to his knees and Jules instantly had her own gun out and was pointing it out. But there was another guard and they pointed their gun at Jules. 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” It was a woman’s voice and Yoongi felt his blood go cold as Jules slowly put her hands up and he caught sight of the people. 

The military had found them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, what did you guys think? Did you find Namjoon interesting? Any thoughts about him? Let me know in the comments below! And as usual, you can follow me on Twitter @_hollow_bone_


	6. The Military

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets get revealed and Namjoon and Jules must decide whether or not Yoongi can live. Or die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if this is bad, but there’s like, a casual discussion of “are we gonna kill this kid?” Right infront of said kid -.-

Yoongi felt his heart plummet, his eyes widening. The two guards had the three of them on their knees, hands up as they went to scan them. 

They were  _ scanning them.  _ Yoongi didn’t know if he’d show up as positive on a scan for the infection. If he was immune did that mean he still had it, it just didn’t affect him. 

Jules was talking quietly to one of the guards — the woman Yoongi was pretty sure. But his mind was too panicked to really register what they were saying. He could hear the soft double beat of the scanner against Namjoons neck beside him, and the female guard was saying something into her walker talkie. Complaining softly. 

“I hate this shit.” The male guard grumbled, moving over to Yoongi. Yoongi could feel the scanner pressing against his skin. A shot of ice ripped through him and he was moving before he could think. 

“Sorry!” He yelled, and moving faster than lightning, he pulled his knife out and stabbed the guy in the thigh. The guard yelled and tossed the scanner to the side, his gun rising to point at Yoongi and the safety clicking off. But before he could pull the trigger he was tackled. Yoongi scrambled back, watching with wide eyes as Jules wrestled the female guard to the ground before shooting her and Namjoon did the same. 

It happened so quickly — one second they were being examined and the next the guards were dead and Namjoon was removing the bullets from their guns, while Jules went over to the discarded scanner and picked it up. 

Yoongi’s heart was jack hammering so hard he barely noticed, his eyes wide as moons as he stared at the dead guards. Jules glanced at the scanner carelessly then froze and looked again. 

“Holy shit, Joon, look at this.” She called, Namjoon turned and took the scanner quickly, he stared at it for a second then held it towards her in confusion. 

“Avery set us up?” He demanded sharply. Jules threw her hands up, and Namjoon turned to Yoongi, Yoongi who felt a little sick from how quickly things had escalated. “Wanna tell me why we’re smuggling an  _ infected boy?! _ ” He snarled. Yoongi was frozen under the furious stare. Terrified at the way Jules was holding her gun — clearly about to shoot him, but waiting for Namjoons order. 

He was the one to convince.

_ “ _ I-I’m not infected!” Yoongi blurted, then resisted the urge to quail under the way Namjoon stepped forward. 

“Oh yeah? Is this thing lying then?!” He snapped, tossing the scanner at Yoongi. The bright red  _ positive _ sign flashed up at him. 

“I can explain!” Yoongi choked, blinking the rain out of his eyes. He could make out Namjoon and Jules just barely. His panic making it even more difficult to see in this rain. But he could already feel the fury practically leaping off of Namjoon. 

“Start talking.” Namjoon ordered. 

“Look at this!” Yoongi rolled up his sleeve quickly and Namjoon made a disgusted noise, turning away from him. 

“I don’t care how you got bitten!” He snapped. But Yoongi remained stubborn, pushing himself to his feet and stepping closer — trying to get them to see that the wound was almost completely healed. That only a few scabs and tenderness remained. 

“It’s three weeks old!” He yelled. A heavily sarcastic laugh ripped from Jules. 

“Yeah right — everyone knows you turn within two days of being bitten, so you stop bullshitting us!” She snapped. Frustration flared through Yoongi and he shoved his arm out — more into the light. 

“It’s three weeks!” He yelled, and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Namjoon was actually looking at the wound, a strange light in his eyes. He met Jules eyes and said almost desperately. “Why would I lie to you?” 

To  _ survive.  _ That was the answer, but Yoongi didn’t want to survive, he wanted to  _ live.  _ He knew it was shining in his eyes, the truth of his statement, and doubt flickered across her face. Just then, lights flashed over the pile of debris to their left, the sound of a car engine revved and Namjoon cursed.

“Come on! We can kill him later if he’s lying!” He snapped at Jules. “Come on!” He yelled and they followed him under a low hanging piece of metal. Behind them Yoongi could hear distant shocked cries of outrage as the guards bodies were discovered. In just a few seconds the searchlights were turning on — sirens ringing. 

“Shit!” Jules spit, she grabbed Yoongi and dragged him to the ground behind a cement block as the lights flashed over again, they were crouching down and Yoongi was about to drop to his knees so he could be more steady, but Jules was talking.

“Ok, on my mark guys, there’s a ditch just to the left — on my mark, jump into it.” Namjoon growled an affirmation and Yoongi nodded, ice trickling through his body. Jules went entirely still, her eyes dark and wide as she watched, then she shot forward like an arrow, her hand gripping Yoongi and dragging him as she moved. 

“Get down there!” She hissed. Yoongi nearly fell down, the ditch was deep — an old sewage system that was now exposed to the elements. Water was rushing past around his calves and Yoongi winced. Shock and pain jolting up his legs through his spine at the impact, but there was no time to rest. Both Namjoon and Jules were already moving — fast and steady as they navigated through the tunnels, hissing soft instructions at one another, halting movements with single gestures. 

Yoongi felt like he was being tossed back and forth, fear of being caught making him more alert and quiet. Unable to understand this silent language the two had developed. They would jerk him down and forward and at one point as Jules pulled him into a small pipe — and covered his mouth and nose so he couldn’t even breath as a guard passed — he could feel the scabs on his arm tear painfully. 

They picked their way carefully through the sewage system. And Yoongi froze when they got to a larger section. There was a patrol of guards — just on the lip of the ravine — arguing seriously. 

“Quiet, do everything that Namjoon does.” Jules breathed in Yoongi’s ear. He turned to look at Namjoon and noticed the man wasn’t even looking at him, his gaze was locked on the guards, calculating as they flitted around the open space, he moved forward, crouched down against the side of the trench that the guards were on, and Yoongi followed him, moving slowly and carefully, they slipped into an open space, past the guards. It appeared to be an extremely old torn apart house. There was no ceiling and hardly any flooring. 

Namjoon pulled himself up to the next ledge and Yoongi resisted the urge to yelp in shock as the man reached back down and lifted him up by his arm. He pushed his feet against the edge of the wall to help push himself up and turned back to help Jules, but she was also already up. The whole thing took them less then twenty seconds but Yoongi was strangely ruffled. He had the sneaking idea that Namjoon and Jules would already be safe if they didn’t have him. 

Namjoon remained crouched — light on his feet. He moved quietly as a shadow and Yoongi struggled to follow his example, his legs straining and chest heaving. He wasn’t used to moving in this awkward hunched over position. 

They made it to an empty garage — the ceiling was gone in this room too. Yoongi watched as Jules and Namjoon had another one of their silent conversations. After a second Jules nodded and Namjoon moved, carefully lifting the garage door up just a bit he grunted at Jules. 

“Go under, I got it!” Jules didn’t hesitate — crawling under she found something and propped up the bottom of the door while Namjoon wheezed, then released the door, it settled awkwardly on the huge piece of stone, the rattling of the door hidden by the rain. Namjoon glared at Yoongi and he gulped before quickly crawling under the garage door as well, once out they were crouched again. 

“Patrol down the street.” Namjoon breathed softly. 

“Cross it and move through the burned buildings?” Jules murmured back. Namjoon nodded, and they were slinking across, using the old cars as cover they darted across the street and into another destroyed house. One that Yoongi now knew was destroyed from fire. 

They moved quietly, Yoongi’s entire body was screaming in protest at him from holding this weird crouched position, his breaths harsh, the only relief was the cold rain against his skin. He slid along behind Namjoon, both of them silent as death as the guards also searched the houses they were traveling through. 

Yoongi pressed himself behind an old burnt desk as a guard passed right by him, his eyes wide as saucers. The guy froze, and was about to turn his way when something shattered off to the left. Namjoon had thrown something made of glass. 

Yoongi blinked and only continued moving when the guy was gone. They made it through the houses slowly and Yoongi breathed a sigh of relief as Namjoon led them through a huge window that led down into what appeared to be another hole into the sewage system. They dropped down quietly, and Yoongi nearly went to a halt as he saw the deep pool of water at the bottom of the hole, but that fear eased as he noticed the water only went up to Namjoons hips. 

He clambered down after them, then crawled through yet another pipe after them. When they emerged they were in an underground room of what appeared to be a maintenance room. Jules groaned with relief. 

“Thank god we went the right way.” Yoongi nearly gaped at her as understanding struck him. Even while being chased by loads of military men — these smugglers had still been following their smuggling route and sticking to their schedule. Seeing his look Jules shrugged. 

“Time is money kid, and we aren’t scared of the military.”

Yoongi turned and watched as Namjoon flicked on his flashlight. 

“The tunnel is right here.” He called back softly. Yoongi resisted the urge to groan as he crouched down and followed them through the tunnel — naturally reverting to his hands and knees. He crawled out last, the room looked like an old dilapidated locker room. There walls were old and mildewed cinder blocks and the lockers were rusted as hell. 

He watched as Namjoon picked something up off of the old table, shoving a little bag into his backpack. He quickly walked over to the lockers and wrenched one of the doors open. Pulling what looked like first aide supplies out and shoving them into his backpack as well. 

“You done?” Jules demanded, she was leaning against an open door that led out of this room. Namjoon sighed. 

“Yeah that’s all that’s in here, I think.” He grumbled. Yoongi remained silent as he followed them out the door. And into yet another pipe — but this one was dry. They moved quietly and Yoongi jolted as Namjoon dropped into a wide open room that was right beneath some grated, water went up above his hips and near his ribs and Yoongi could already tell the water would reach his chest. 

He held up his hand at them, signaling that they should hang back, and Yoongi could hear voices from above the grate. 

“Commanders calling it a night! This rain doesn’t look like it’ll let up soon and those guys are long gone by now!” 

“But what if they’re Fireflies! They could be carrying a really important message.”

“Nah, these guys are too crafty to be Fireflies — probably some smugglers, which means you’ll never find them! Now load up and get! That’s an order!” 

The sound of car engines starting, headlights flashed over the grate, and then they drove off. Namjoon gestured for them to keep walking and as Yoongi dropped into the water — fighting off panic as he raised his hands and moved through it. Namjoon turned and looked at him. 

“We’re out of the danger zone — nearly. Just keep up.” 

Yoongi nodded, his heart pounding. He really hoped that everything would be just slightly easier from here on out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so so!!! TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THOUGHT? So I felt like the sequences weren’t phrased correctly like maybe I wasn’t descriptive enough? Tell me if you guys enjoyed it in the comments below! Also — any thoughts/speculations? 👁👁


	7. Clicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi finds out that his education when it comes to the Infected is . . . somewhat lacking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like this!

Namjoon pushed open the heavy grate and it opened out onto a grassy slope, he gestured for Yoongi and Jules to go out and they moved quickly. Yoongi all but collapsed onto a huge boulder, panting harshly as he stared out. 

In front of him was a destroyed intersection. Dilapidated old cars were tossed around carelessly, the pavement cracked and sloping down haphazardly. But Yoongi was busy catching his breath, panting and shaking slightly, he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. Now that adrenaline wasn’t coursing through him he could feel how bitterly cold he was. His fingers slightly numb, and he could only thank whatever god there was that it was summer, and in a few hours the sun would rise and he would be warm. 

Namjoon was still and silent, as he moved in front of where Yoongi was sitting, keen eyes scanning the surrounding area. After a few seconds he turned back. 

“They’re gone.” He confirmed quietly. 

“Ok,” Jules exhaled and plopped down to sit beside Yoongi, she rubbed her face before turning to him, folding one leg up under her so the other dangled off the edge. “Now, let me see your arm.” She held out her hand and Yoongi felt his stomach drop, suddenly remembering that these guys  _ knew  _ and they were gonna decide whether or not to kill him. 

Slowly he held out his arm. As she gripped his wrist he had to resist the urge to jerk back and tell her that his arm was very painful when pushed or prodded. The skin around the scar had a heightened sensitivity. It always felt raw and exposed unless something was wrapped tightly around it. Avery had said that hopefully the heightened sense of touch would fade with time. 

But Jules was surprisingly gentle. Her grip was firm and hard around his wrist but her fingers were soft and careful as she slowly rolled up his sleeve, he barely felt the movement and relaxed slightly. She shook her flashlight before shining it at his arm. Namjoon stepped closer and both of them examined the wound calmly. 

Yoongi watched them as the rain slowly turned into soft pattering rather than the harsh downfall from earlier. He knew what they were seeing. 

Skin that resembled a burn scar almost, lumpy and unnaturally smooth, the center of it was a bright pink, fresh and vulnerable— he had been right, the scabs had torn. But they were clearly healing. 

Jules slowly looked up at Yoongi, and there was the look on her face, a sort of longing. 

“Alright,” she said, “What was the plan?” Her voice was soft and coaxing and for a few seconds confusion rushed through Yoongi. It must have shown on his face because she gestured around them. 

“Let’s say we deliver you to the Fireflies? Then what?” She demanded, understanding bolted through Yoongi followed quickly by a sense of slight relief. She believed him.

“Avery,” he hesitated before swallowing and moving his arm to roll his sleeve back down. “She said — she said that the Fireflies have their own little  _ Quarantine Zone _ out west. There are doctors there, still trying to find a cure.” He explained. Namjoon snorted. 

“Yeah we’ve heard that before.” He growled, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stared Yoongi down. Yoongi resisted the urge to snarl something harsh right back as Jules gave Namjoon an annoyed look, before turning her attention back to Yoongi and gesturing for him to continue. 

“And she said. . .” Yoongi side-eyed Namjoon, slight embarrassment welling up in his chest, he mumbled out the last part. “And that whatever happened to me, whatever went different — it could be studied and we could find a cure.” Namjoon laughed.

“Oh Jesus.” He snorted, Yoongi felt defensiveness sweep through him. 

“That’s what she said!” He snapped. Namjoon rolled his eyes, folding his arms. 

“Oh I’m sure she did, kid.” His voice was dark and rough, lined with bitter knowledge and experience but Yoongi was suddenly too angry to pick up on those subtle tones. He leaped to his feet, spreading his arms and snarling out. 

“Hey,  _ fuck you _ man! I didn’t fucking ask for this!” He took a step forward as he said it, anger lines in every ridge of his body. Namjoon gave him a cold look. 

“Me neither.” He snipped, then turned from Yoongi to Jules. “Jules what the hell are we doing here?” He hissed. Yoongi boiled at the dismissal— wanting to snarl and lash out but stopping as Jules turned to Namjoon. 

“What if it’s true?” Her voice was strong and steady. Namjoon looked stunned and upset, he gestured at her angrily. 

“I can't believe you —“ He began but Jules cut him off. 

“Joon — what if?” She demanded, almost desperately. “And even if it’s not! We’ve come this far, we might as well finish this!” She said, Namjoon stepped closer, and Yoongi froze as he said softly to her. 

“Jules, we have been traveling together for ten years, do I need to remind you  _ what is out there? _ ” He asked softly, and Yoongi knew he wasn’t imagining the worry shining in Namjoons eyes under the fiery anger. 

Surprisingly Jules stepped back, she looked at Namjoon, really looked at the older man, and then at Yoongi. Understanding flashed through her eyes and she turned back to Namjoon and said, almost sympathetically. 

“I get it.” Namjoon sucked in a sharp breath, eyes burning with rage at the words, hands curling. 

“Fuck off.” He spit, voice shaking ever so slightly. Jules shrugged stepping back. 

“Come on Yoongi.” She called as she headed towards a dip in the broken road, quickly climbing up. Yoongi stared at Namjoon for a second, trying to figure out what he was missing, before shrugging and quickly following Jules. He was just happy not to be shot. 

“This way guys!” Jules called, she was already marching down the road, gesturing directly at the two buildings. “If we cut through the downtown area we can hit the capitol building by sunrise.” 

“We hope.” Namjoon murmured softly as he moved past Yoongi. A deep sense of foreboding washed through Yoongi at the words. 

He rushed to catch up with Jules, pulling himself up onto each ledge then on top of the card to reach the next one, when he got to the top he froze though, his mouth dropping open as he looked around. The road stretched ahead of them, threaded through with grass and overgrown bushes, but in front of him were two of the  _ biggest fucking buildings  _ he had ever seen. 

They hadn’t looked this big from the quarantine zone — but now that they were up close they towered threateningly over Yoongi’s head, looming like fallen giants, awkwardly slanted and leaning in at sharp angles. He craned his head all the way back and blinked — he could see where the two buildings had brutally slammed into each other at the top. Stopping the other from falling completely.

“Holy shit.” He gasped. “So this is what they actually look like?” If he was being completely honest they were fucking terrifying. “They’re so fucking tall.” He grumbled nervously, walking closer to Jules. He had decided he liked her. She was tough as nails but surprisingly similar to Avery, and she was more likely to answer his questions. There was also the small fact that she actually was invested in this and wanted to do it. Namjoon might just let him die if they were attacked or something. 

“What happened here to make them — fall?” He asked curiously. Jules hummed faintly, stopping to look up before walking again. 

“It was way back before the quarantine zones were even set up. They bombed the hell out of this area hoping to take out as many of the infected as possible.” She answered calmly, Yoongi blinked, looking at the torn pavement and shattered cars. 

“Did it work?” He asked curiously. She shrugged. 

“Yes and no. It gave them time to set up the quarantine zone but the only way to stop the Cordyceps virus completely is to burn the bodies so they mostly just made it worse.” Yoongi gave her a confused look and she sighed as they began to climb up some pavement onto yet another road. 

“The Cordyceps virus is really a fungus — it takes over your body and keeps you alive while simultaneously using you to grow, and driving you to attack others so it can spread to their blood as well. When you die — it feeds off your body to fully mature and sends out Spores, which will get you infected if you inhale them.” 

_ Well, fuck. _

Thunder rumbled ominously and as if answering, faint shrieks rose into the air. It reminded Yoongi of the infected cries from the mall — but worse, more twisted and shrill like nails dragging down a chalkboard. 

“Um, what the hell was that?” He demanded sharply, struggling to catch up to Jules who had walked away. 

“Joon did you hear that?” Jules called. 

“Yeah, but they’re pretty far off — I’d say two to three miles.” He called back. “We’re fine for now.” 

Yoongi cast the man a surprised look then shrugged. Yoongi had no idea how in the hell Namjoon had been able to pinpoint a distance to the shriek. And he couldn’t help but be slightly impressed, Jules must have been able to read that on his face as he caught up to her cause she gave him a sly look. 

“If you ask very nicely — he might give you some tips on how to pinpoint things by sound alone. Sometimes, he can be so focused that he knows exactly where everyone is in a room before entering.” She murmured. 

“That’s so cool!” Yoongi blurted without thinking, then scowled, not liking having admitted that the older guy was kind of awesome. She grinned at him, evidently thinking his admission was funny. 

_He’s still an asshole._ Yoongi glared as Jules hauled herself over a car, before following suit. And also — _as_ if Namjoon would ever _willingly_ teach him anything. 

But as he pulled himself over the ledge, all his thoughts stuttered to a halt and he froze. Arms falling limp to his sides and mouth dripping open. In front of him — where more streets and buildings should have been, was a huge gaping hole in the ground. 

It had to be at least eighty feet across and a hundred yards deep. He could see where several buildings had been torn to shred and as he inched closer he could make out old, ripped subway and shredded pipes. It looked like a monster had reached down into the earth and scooped out a handful only to crumple it and sprinkle it back down like sand — suddenly he could see exactly how those two buildings had started to fall in towards each other. 

“That’s quite a drop.” Jules whistled. She was crouching — too Yoongi’s horror — on the very edge of a thick piece of metal extending out over the pole. It was still fucking  _ raining _ ! She could slip and fall! 

“Well, there’s the capitol building.” Namjoon sighed, stepping out on a similar piece of wood and gesturing out, Yoongi squinted and off in the distance he could see a yellow dome shape. The roof of the capitol building he guessed.

_ So far away. _ Yoongi thought with a sinking heart. 

“Yeah, we need to get around this mess.” Jules sighed. Instantly Namjoon was moving back and away from the edge. He ducked under a pile of rubble to their right and after a few seconds called out. 

“There’s a path this way.” He called back, and Jules quickly walked back to the land and ducked after him. Yoongi raised his eyes to the sky staring at the rain before quickly following them. 

As he emerged on the other side he could see Namjoon and Jules, they were examining some old rubble on the side of the building and Yoongi watched with surprised eyes as Jules pulled an old, rusted, iron spike from it and shoved it in her backpack. Namjoon was looking through the opening into the tower. 

Yoongi felt his eyes widen like moons as he took in the building. 

It was leaning heavily, and looked so unstable he cringed just thinking about stepping into it. The walls were covered in moss and mold and the faint smell of mildew was detectable even through the rain. The floor was slanted at a rather terrifying angle and Yoongi’s heart dropped -- he didn’t even know if it was stable. 

“Jules.” Namjoon called back. He had actually  _ entered _ the rotten building and Yoongi watched as Jules moved over to Namjoon, reluctantly he followed, then instantly wished he hadn’t. 

“He’s been ripped apart.” Jules observes. Both her and Namjoon’s flashlights were pinned on the tattered remains of a military soldier. His skin was mostly unrecognizable but the helmet and vest gave him away. Yoongi gagged as the scent of blood, urine, and defecation assaulted his senses. Averting his eyes from the sight of mangled flesh and splintered bones. 

“He’s only been dead a couple hours.” Namjoon looked decidedly worried. “We should move.” Then he marched straight through the open door past the body as if it wasn’t even there. Jules followed and Yoongi stared after them. 

He frowned. They were so tough — they weren’t even dazed by the body. He couldn’t be either if he wanted to keep up. 

_ And haven’t you already seen worse? _ Yoongi chided himself. He had seen infected mutilated and bloody and his best friends sightless eyes, and older memories of people so thin you could see every bone, their eyes dull and dead. He forced himself to look down, and actually look at the body of the soldier as he went to pass. 

He shoved the fact that it was a human body out of his mind, pushing it down until he could observe it almost clinically. Ignoring the turning nausea in his body he observed the way the man’s skin had been ripped clean off, how his throat was just mangled tendons and bones, cloudy dead eyes and a mouth still gaping in a scream. An automatic rifle lay limp and bulletless by the guys feet — the shells from the bullets littered around his feet. 

Yoongi frowned — he had to have been killed by at least ten infected — infected were weak boned and soft, easy to kill (supposedly). That gun should have been enough? And Namjoon said this had happened  _ several hours  _ ago. Meaning that the infected were still close, he rushed to follow Namjoon and Jules, memories of the inhuman shrieks from earlier grating on his ears. 

They had entered a side room and exited it while Yoongi stood in thought. As they passed Jules gestured impatiently at Yoongi to follow them, and they turned to head up some stairs. They groaned alarmingly under their steps and Yoongi was  _ again _ reminded of just how unstable the building they had entered was. 

“Shit! Another one.” Jules hissed, Yoongi jerked and saw Namjoon crouched in front of another corpse, picking the dead man’s small gun up and emptying it of its bullets. The older man then picked up a blood splattered paper that Yoongi recognized as a field report. He read it with a grim look before he straightened up.

“Looks like they died waiting for backup.” He said evenly. Yoongi’s heart sunk. 

“It never came.” Jules sighed. Namjoon stood without a word and continued up the next flight of stairs. Yoongi resolutely followed Jules as she walked past the corpse after Namjoon. Ignoring the way it was torn up just like the guy before. But a nagging voice in the back of his mind couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they shouldn’t be traveling higher up and further into a building that had clearly had hordes of infected in it just a few hours earlier. 

They rounded the next corner and Yoongi nearly ran into Jules as he tried to read the faded words on the wall. “Floor 5, Emergency Stairwell.” Jules cast him an annoyed look right as Namjoon hissed with disgust. 

“God dammit, Clicker!” Yoongi turned to look at him and frowned when he noticed what Namjoon was looking at, the exit from the stairway led to a hall and directly across from the entryway was a door. The door had what looked like very old but also  _ fresh _ remains of someone leaning against it. It must have been an infected person. Probably one that the mutilated soldiers had killed. But it looked -- different. 

The fungus that was the Cordyceps Virus wasn’t just growing in small lumps from the skin, it was curling out and around it. The infected’s face looked like the fungus had split it in half and was curling from the crack and flaring out over the creatures face and skin like some hard shell. It wrapped around the infecteds skull like some disturbing mushroom/flower, the only part not covered was the mouth. The top of the jaw was split and pushed by the fungus so that the infecteds teeth had been shoved into two points -- the edges jagged and broken making them sharper than normal. And it's skin was literally  _ coated  _ in small growths of the virus. What skin wasn’t affected looked like it had been leached of color and was strained over corded muscle’s. It's fingers were thin and gray, the sin peeled back from the tips to reveal bones that had been scraped into sharp ends. 

“Geez, what’s wrong with its face?” Yoongi demanded Namjoon's words just beginning to register. Jules shook her head, lips tight.

“That’s what years of infection will do to you.” She said darkly, and Yoongi’s mind whirled -- this  _ thing  _ had still been moving and functionable a few hours ago?  _ Years  _ of infection?

Namjoon bent down and calmly started tugging at the creatures body -- it seemed it was already stuck to the door. Yoongi looked at the things face -- only the mouth left functional and asked a little doubtfully. 

“So, are they . . .blind?” Jules made a so-so gesture with her hands. 

“Sort of, their hearing is off the walls crazy,they can see using sound.” That certainly rang a few bells and as Namjoon dropped the Clicker’s body to the side and began to shove the door open he asked, 

“Like bats?” 

“Exactly like bats. If you hear one clicking, you have to get low to the ground -- and you can’t make any noise.” She explained. “Otherwise they’ll spot you.” but just then, Namjoon finally managed to slam the door open, a few spores drifting lazily through the air. As they moved into the room the whole building around them suddenly groaned and Yoongi froze, heart pounding in terror at the awful creaking noise. 

“Shit!” He gasped. 

“The whole building feels like it's about to fall apart.” Namjoon muttered from in front of them, he had been looking through an old desk but now he was moving to where a filing cabinet had fallen to block the door. He crouched and went under it, growling softly. “Watch your head.” 

Yoongi crouched as well and found himself in a small office room, he was looking around, taking stock of the small cubicles when the ground seemed to shudder slightly beneath his feet, an old rolly chair slid past and bumped into the huge windows with a dull thud. Yoongi shuddered violently. 

“Totally cool.” He croaked, “Everything is totally cool.” Namjoon didn’t even glance at him as he moved to the white door at the higher end of the room. Yoongi frowned -- that door would lead back to the hall way they just came from and if that was the case then why did they have to take this longer pathway through these two rooms?

_ There’s probably a blockage in the hallway. It's not like you looked. _ Yoongi hadn’t looked -- he had been too preoccupied asking about Clickers. He watched almost idly as Namjoon shoved the door, it groaned and moved open slightly — blocked. 

“Jules come help me with this.” He groaned. She stepped forward bracing herself beside him, and with a horrible loud grating sound began to shove the door open, something gave, and it flew open with a loud bang as the thing blocking it fell. 

_ So the floor was missing to the right — no wonder we went around.  _ Yoongi realized, looking down at where the metal blocking the door had fallen. 

“Joon!” Jules suddenly yelled, Yoongi whirled around and blinked, there was the sound of something tearing, a horrible clacking snarl as  _ something  _ slammed into Namjoon so fast Yoongi could barely register it in time.

But then Namjoon was pinned to the floor, his arm wedged against the creature's throat — keeping it's drooling snapping jaws away. Jules had her gun out in mere seconds and with a loud  _ bang! _ Shot the infected in the head. 

It barely flinched, but she didn’t seem surprised, and had already pulled the trigger again, and when it shuddered slightly she kicked it off of Namjoon and stepped on its chest, shooting it in the mouth. It instantly fell still. 

Yoongi was left staring gaping as Namjoon sat up and shook his head. He had thin claw marks across his arm, and blood splattered over his face. 

He glanced at Yoongi, then stood and examined his arm, grumbling out a soft  _ thanks  _ to Jules, before turning to Yoongi with hard eyes. 

“That’s a Clicker.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you guys think? As usual leave me a comment telling me your thoughts! And if you have any questions feel free to ask them! I always try to reply! If you want you can follow me on Twitter @_hollow_bone_ 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading it! ❤️ I know I loved writing it!


	8. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The key to survival is not to fight and win — it’s to stay alert and move on.

Yoongi stared at him with wide shocked eyes. The thing had been. . .  _ fast _ . Faster than anyone alive and the infected he had run into at the mall. He could still hear the sharp noise of its body slamming into Namjoon, the way Namjoon had barely been able to hold its head back. It was brutally strong. 

_ Three bullets.  _ The fungus growth — it must act like some type of armor almost, it bled as if there were veins connected to the fungus. The thought was disturbing. 

It was like someone doped up on adrenaline but  _ all the time _ . No wonder they were talking about sneaking past it/away from one earlier nobody sane  _ wanted  _ to take a monster on. 

“Come here.” Namjoon’s voice was harsh and rough, he was crouched by the infected, calmly emptying it's pockets. Yoongi wouldn’t have known the elder was talking to him if he hadn’t turned to Yoongi and gestured impatiently for him to come forward. Yoongi reluctantly walked over to where the man was crouched by the Clicker’s body. 

“Easiest and fastest way to kill a Clicker — shoot it in the mouth or the throat— you can also stab it's throat. If there are a lot and you haven’t been spotted, set one on fire — it’ll start shrieking and the others will go over to it and catch fire as well — they’re extremely flammable.” As he said all this he carefully pointed at each body part, forcing Yoongi to feel how the dead gray flesh was still soft around the throat in spite of the fungus. He stood and glared down at Yoongi. “You’re so small that whatever you do, never head on fight a Clicker -- they’re unbelievably fast and strong, your best bet is dodging or avoiding the thing altogether. Got it?” 

Yoongi, who was still trying to process this — just nodded mutely and Namjoon stalked off entering the next door with zero hesitation. Jules shrugged at Yoongi’s puzzled look. 

“He may hate this job but he can’t stand people not knowing basic shit that could keep them alive in the future.” She rolled her eyes before following her partner, leaving Yoongi slightly stunned and confused. He stared at the now dead Clicker and with a thoughtful hum, forced himself to repeat the man’s words in his mind, carefully ingraining the advice. 

_ Clickers; avoid at all cost, but if in an inevitable fight, try to shoot it in the throat or mouth, or set it on fire with a molotov. If out of bullets and flammable materials, dodge it’s advances and try to stab it _ . 

He may not like Namjoon, but he wasn’t stupid enough to let that dislike cloud his judgement and make him disregard valuable advice. Namjoon may be gruff and harsh, and maybe a bit cruel -- but he had survived the initial outbreak, he was  _ still  _ surviving. The man knew his shit, and Yoongi was almost grateful for the advice. Besides the “shoot it if it moves” training from the military, and basic hand to hand combat, Yoongi didn’t know much about fighting infected or dodging attacks. He hadn’t even known there was such a thing as  _ different levels _ of danger when it came to the infected until about ten minutes ago. So he would take any and all advice from  _ anyone _ . 

“Yoongi.” Jules called softly, Yoongi jerked out of his stupor and saw her gesture to a doorway that was missing the doors. “Come help search for supplies.” She called. Yoongi blinked, then nodded and quickly walked into what had obviously once been a work break room. There was a fridge and counters and an old shattered microwave. Off to the side were three or four old vending machines, they had already been ransacked and torn to shreds Yoongi ignored the old stains and the sharp smell of mildew as he moved forward and began looking through the cabinets. Namjoon was rooting through his backpack with a fierce scowl on his face. 

“Here, patch yourself up.” Jules murmured beside him, she handed Namjoon a thick strip of white cloth wrapped tightly around a small plastic tube that had plants that had been ground up in water in it. Yoongi watched; fascinated as Namjoon pulled the tube out and soaked the part of the cloth that was directly touching his wounds. He hissed softly as he did it, but in just a few seconds he had his arm tightly wrapped and bound. Yoongi gently touched the awkward bandaging on his own arm. 

He wanted to know how to bind wounds like that so quickly and effectively, but that was for another day. Namjoon shot him an impatient look as he straightened, handing the now half full vial back to Jules. They moved through the room without any other words. 

Yoongi flinched every time the building shuddered and groaned — expecting it to come apart and bury them in glass, cement and steel at any second, but Namjoon and Jules didn’t seem to notice. They moved from room to room confidently. Easily and fluidly making their way down the hall. At one point Yoongi found a plastic bottle full of some sort of liquid and wordlessly handed it to Jules, she took one whiff and gave it to Namjoon who stored it in his backpack. 

They approached the end of the hall and Yoongi could hear Namjoon curse as he entered a set of double doors that should have led to stairs to the next level. 

“Damn.” He hissed, Yoongi who was just rounding the corner peered curiously. The room looked like it had been a receptionist area, it had the desk of one and large spaces that used to hold chairs, but those chairs had slid down and were piled in deep water that had gathered in the corner of the room. 

“What?” He whispered, and Jules nudged him, directing his gaze up to where the stairs should have been, 

There were no stairs — they had collapsed into a hazardous looking pile of metal and the bannister railing on the next floor was torn — hanging from that was yet another mauled soldier. 

“Oh geez.” Yoongi grimaced, fresh blood was still trailing down the wall, the only thing holding the soldier's body up was the pole stabbed straight through his midsection. 

Namjoon had moved to where his back was against the wall Jules approached him calmly as he crouched down and cupped his hands. 

“Just — see if there’s a way through.” He growled, Jules stepped on his cupped hands and Namjoon moved up, boosting her so she could clamber onto the ledge. 

“Okay.” She gasped, flashing her light around and nodding slightly. 

“Yeah there’s a way up, come on Yoongi.” She flashed her light down and Yoongi jolted as he realized he was next. 

“Alright kid you're up.” Namjoon stood and moved back and Yoongi ran at the wall, jumping up and grabbing Jules hands, he slowly walked up, huffing and gasping. 

“You got it!” Jules panted, patting him on the back, then she crouched back down, extending a hand to Namjoon. 

“Come on Texas! Let’s go!” She grinned fiercely as Namjoon flashed her an annoyed look then he was running up the wall, gripping one of Jules hand while the other gripped the ledge and pulled himself up. 

Yoongi frowned as he heard a faint noise behind him — a low shrill inhuman moan and he froze, blood freezing. 

“Clickers?!” He hissed and Namjoon and Jules were up in seconds.

“Shit, quick hide!” Namjoon cursed, grabbing Yoongi and dragging him to the next room, they crouched behind some old desks and Yoongi shook as he heard shuffling footsteps and sharp snarls, an irritating clicking noise like teeth snapping together at a fast rate. 

He stared at the two smugglers with wide eyes, barely breathing he was holding so still. The two were once again arguing silently, staring fiercely at each other, Namjoon shook his head ever so slightly as Jules gently touched the gun at her side.

She reached slowly to the left as the shrieks got louder — right above their head, and Yoongi watched with frozen fear as she held up a glass bottle and then  _ threw _ it over the desk. It shattered loudly on the other side of the room and Yoongi reached out a bit helplessly as the Clickers shrieks got more aggressive as it headed towards the noise. 

Everything moved steadily. They were slowly making their way behind the old desks as the clicker shrieked off to the side. Jules turned back to look at them and murmured so softly it was more like an exhale of air. 

“That’s our way our — over the scaffolding.” Yoongi looked to where she had gestured, blocking the next stairwell was a low built scaffolding (evidently they had been renovating this place when the apocalypse happened) and Yoongi watched with wide eyes as Namjoon slowly slid over to it. He crouched beside it then stood and quickly pulled himself over on top of it, using only his arms so that his body wouldn’t scrap roughly against the wood. 

Yoongi quickly followed suit — doing his best to make no noise, and dropped down on the other side of the scaffolding. There was another dead soldier here, leaning against the shattered old floor to ceiling windows. Namjoon didn’t comment on it as he removed the guy's medical kit and slipped it into his backpack. 

“Yoongi are you all right?” Jules demanded, he turned to her, shuddering slightly as he thought about the Clicker — he could still hear it faintly screeching on the other side of the scaffold. 

“Other than shitting my pants? I’m great!” He grumbled, Jules grinned. 

This stairwell was in considerably worse shape then the other one they had gone up — the beams were all shattered and they couldn’t go up or down unless they jumped over the railing onto the floor under them. Namjoon did just that — pulling some heavy old metal junk away from the small opening between their floor and the next. 

“Come on you two.” He grunted, arms straining as he dragged the metal object further back with an awful shrieking noise. Yoongi shifted nervously as the clicker shrieked on the other side of the scaffolding, slamming into it and scraping it's claws along the old wood. 

“Don’t worry, it can’t get through.” Jules aborted, rolling her dark eyes before vaulting lightly over the railing. Yoongi cast a wide eyed look back before all but scrambling to follow suit.

The next floor — they were back on floor five now, was just as destroyed as floor six, the glass was shattered and the floor was soaked from rain — although Yoongi notes that the rain had stopped. 

Heavy metal beams and furniture blocked both the door and the stairwell and Yoongi cast a frustrated glance at Namjoon and Jules — well aware they had literally walked into a dead end.

“The stairwells blocked.” He pointed out, glancing from Namjoon who had just dropped down to Jules, who was peering out the window. “Should we go back up?” 

But Jules ignores his question, she leaned out the shattered window, and Yoongi realized with a jolt of fascinated horror that there was some type of wide elevator thing just outside the window. It was suspended by heavy cables and reminded him of the pictures he’d seen of people repairing skyscrapers back in the past. Jules reaches out and pushed down hard on the railing, then gulped. 

“Ah this is crazy.” She swore, and without any hesitation jumped out the window and onto the steel platform. Yoongi muffles a slight shriek of fear as it swayed slightly and the cables groaned traitorously. 

“Just — don’t look down.” She waved at Yoongi, gesturing for him to drop into the thing and he spluttered. 

“Wha—? Are you serious?!” He hissed. Evidently she was, he could feel Namjoon’s presence just behind him and something told him he really didn’t have a choice in this. So he vaulted over, trying to ignore the way the platform shook violently and how it was dangling right over that  _ huge fucking crater _ the bombs had created. He glanced to the end of it and saw Jules jump onto  _ another  _ of the platforms — which was at least ten feet lower than this one. Swallowing the way his throat tightened with fear, he quickly jumped after her, flinching and holding his hands out for balance as the steel cables groaned and the platform swayed slightly like some dangerous swing. 

He was just getting to the end where the buildings design created a two foot wide foothold, when the entire platform jolted horribly, the cables all but shrieking. He gasped harshly, arms lashing out to grab the platform then turned to shoot a murderous glare back at Namjoon. 

Namjoon’s face remained calm, but tight with concentration as he looked at the platform. 

“Come on Yoongi.” Jules hissed, and Yoongi has to resist the sudden strong edge to spit at her. 

These people were  _ actually _ insane. Shakily, he forced his eyes up to the dark night sky as his feet slid nervously along the slick stone — entirely unwilling to lift his feet to take actual steps. Too scared at the way the platform sloped because the fucking building was  _ tilted _ . It took him a few seconds to realize that he was shaking slightly and whispering softly under his breath. 

“Don’t look down, don’t look down.” 

“Look we’re fine, there’s another entrance right here.” Jules murmured to him, he turned his eyes from the sky to look and sure enough there was another platform. This one was filled with rocks and concrete and there were bits of shattered glass scattered across the top. Jules slid through the broken window, grabbing Yoongi’s arm and pulling him in behind her before straightening and gesturing at the stairs that were completely clear, Yoongi looked up and could see the floor they were just on through the clustered metal blocking the upwards stairwell. 

He took a few calming breaths, wringing his hands until that shaky feeling passed. 

Jules marched forward quickly and Yoongi had to walk a little faster. He had shorter legs than Jules so for every single long stride she took he took two. They entered another hall, and Yoongi slowed slightly as he saw another dead soldier, his revolver laying on the ground beside him. 

But this time Jules just flat out ignored the soldier and made no comment. She kept moving determinedly. Yoongi followed her, trying to mimic that sense of cool determination. In the dim lighting he could barely make out the way she had straightened, the muscles in her neck tensing slightly, figurative hackles rising as faint moaning cries ripped through the airs. 

These infected sounded like the ones that had chased him and Sean through the mall, their cries were hoarse and still human. They sounded more like raspy cries of pain then the inhuman monstrous shrieks of the clicker they passed a corner and this room — has no walls. 

Only the support beams were left, the floor was half gone, dropping directly down to the next floor and Jules dropped into a crouch, pulling Yoongi down beside her as she flashed her light down onto the next floor. Yoongi watched with a cold chest as one of the shambling infected staggered past. 

At that moment Namjoon rounded the corner — he had the soldiers revolver in his hands and Yoongi noticed that he was checking it's bullets. He looked up and calmly stowed it in the makeshift halter he had on his waist. 

“Runners.” Jules hissed softly at him, he looked annoyed as he glanced down.

“Ok you stay here with the boy — I’ll go check it out.” He sighed. Jules pulled Yoongi into a sitting position, and he crossed his legs awkwardly, hunching over his lap as the uneven ground pressed uncomfortably into his butt. Namjoon looked around and Yoongi watched as he pulled a heavy metal pipe from the floor, he crouched and set it between his knees, quickly pulling tape and a jar of sharp pieces of metal from his backpack, it only took him a few seconds to have what looked like a rather lethal weapon in his hands. Then, without a second glance back at them, he leaped down onto the next floor. 

Jules leaned towards Yoongi and whispered softly. 

“These are Runners —it’s the first stage of the infection and is most likely what you ran into when you got bit. They are quick and strong and lethal — but soft. Their bones are brittle and easily break and therefore, with a strong enough hit, you can kill them in one blow. Joon is  _ more  _ than capable.” As soon as she said this the cries below became more frenzied, there was wild shrieks and snarls, the sound of  _ one two three  _ gunshots and a loud ugly crunching noise, then silence. After a few seconds Namjoon’s voice called — slightly out of breath. 

“Alright, come on down.” Yoongi didn’t hesitate as he scrambled to his feet and jumped down after Jules, ignoring the way his ankles jolted at the long drop, he raced around the corner into a destroyed room. It was almost entirely exposed to the outside and greenery was growing everywhere — if it wasn’t for the ten or so dead infected littering the area it would have been gorgeous. 

Jules let out a slight whistle as she kicked one of the corpses, turning to grin at Namjoon. 

“I’m impressed Joon!” She crowed and he straightened from where he had been emptying one of the infecteds pockets, giving her an almost exhausted glare. 

“Let’s just get out of here please.” He groaned, standing and shoving some bullets into his pocket. Jules spread her hands in a placating gesture that just made Namjoon look even more annoyed, before she pointed.

“Right there, we can get up there.” She pointed up to the next floor, they had just jumped down from — but a different section they hadn’t been able to access from where they originally were. It was sloped down dramatically and a half open door that was near the windows was blocked by a heavy looking cabinet of some sort. 

“Easy.” Namjoon rolled his eyes and marched over to the wall, he quickly pulled himself up then moved to the door, Yoongi and Jules followed suit and Yoongi huffed slightly as he scrambled up, the concrete scraping painfully along his belly. 

The sound of metal scraping against metal assaulted his ears as he stood and his hands flew up to cover them as he looked around, the teeth grinding noise piercing into his skull. 

“Jules hurry!” Namjoon gasped, he had pulled the heavy old filing cabinet away from the door but due to the buildings slanted angle he couldn’t let it go or it would cover the door again, and the door opened inwards towards them 

“Ok hold on one sec!” Jules yelped, she rushed through the door, Yoongi hot on her heels and grabbed something that was propped up wheels. “This will work! Give me a hand Yoongi!” Yoongi rushed to push it from the other side — surprised by how heavy it was as they both strained to push it through the door. 

“Hod!” Yoongi gasped, there was an ugly crunching sound as Namjoon let go of the metal thing and it slammed into the open door, forcing the old (machine?) object hard against the door frame. 

“Ok that’ll do it.” Namjoon grumbled before crawling quickly over the object, Yoongi glanced around at this new room curiously — another receptionist office type room with an old check in area and a nasty ruined leather couch. He moved towards the door and glanced around at the destroyed hallway, behind him Jules spoke in a slightly worn out but cheerful voice. 

“See? We’re doing alright.” 

“Uh-huh.” Namjoon snorted. He stalked out the door and straight to the edge of where the hallway wall was cut off and opened straight into a room that had to be at least seven floors that were now gone. Yoongi felt his eyes widen as he moved to stand beside Jules who had positioned herself beside Namjoon. 

“Woah.” Yoongi gasped, the room looked like those old pictures of  _ greenhouses _ . Vines climbing up the old cement poles and birds chirping rambunctiously at each other as they fluttered around, small trees grew on ledges pressed tight against the old windows — some of the bigger ones had even shattered the glass and their limbs stretched out to the gloomy night sky.

It was one of the most beautiful things Yoongi had ever seen. It was  _ gorgeous _ . So stunning that his chest almost hurt, there was a strangely soft beauty in the way Nature was growing over the rubble. In the faint light he could make out a wall of small white and yellow flowers that dropped under the light rain spraying them from the outside. 

Jules shines her flashlight down and tsked — the closest platform was two combined floors down, no way they could jump. She flashed the flashlight down the hall to their right and Yoongi was surprised to see that across the huge gap in the hallway was the body of the clicker that had attacked Namjoon when he opened that door. 

They had made a circle to the other side of the building. She turned to their left and nodded, the floor on the left slopes downwards dramatically, meaning even if the platform for the next floor wasn’t there, it wouldn’t be that bad of a drop. 

“Down we go.” She called out to Namjoon. Yoongi turned to look at him and frowned. The older man was staring at the huge room. His eyes dark and the faint light from outside made him look almost likeHE was part of this building. Old and hard, as he stood next to the plants and vines vibrant new growth. But at Jules words he turned, pushing a stray strand of silvery black hair out of his eyes and his eyes were alert, clear and sharp and calculating. Constantly weighing risks and advantages. 

Just as alive and wild as the plants and birds in the huge room. But unlike them Namjoon wasn’t a simple stationary creature. Yoongi thought as the man stalked down the slopes floor and past Jules. No he was more like those drawings and pictures of wild bears and wolves. Ready to rip and tear at a moments notice. Constantly moving and moving and  _ moving _ . 

Something about this analysis made Yoongi feel heavy. He hesitated, looking at the huge room. It was beautiful and vibrant and teaming with energy. But. 

But. 

Come winter — come winter Boston got  _ so cold. _ the birds would leave, the plants would shrivel and die this room would be a treacherous icy wasteland. Snow coming from the holes would hide the sharp poles and jagged rocks. He looked at Namjoon who had reached the end of the hall and was dropping down. 

Namjoon would be very much alive and moving come winter. That calm violence that threaded his everyday life would be a roaring fire in the cold. Something about this particular realization felt significant to Yoongi. But for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. He jogged after them quickly dropping down and then down again. Until they were on the ground floor next to a hole in the wall that led to the huge room. They worked their way quickly through it. 

Jules was talking amicably with Namjoon as they moved up and over obstacles— on pathways Yoongi never would have thought of. She was teasing him. 

Suggesting they settle down after this job. 

“We could be more like Taehyung yeah? Secure an entire town and some woodland?” She grinned as Namjoon wrinkled his nose. 

“Taehyung’s crazy as all hell Jules all he thinks about day in and out is how to keep his precious toy safe, he’s a useful bitch when it comes to resources, but modeling our lives after his? God no! — and besides, aren’t you the one insisting we keep going and working?” He turned and quirked up an eyebrow at Jules before dropping into a huge pool of water that went up to his thighs and Jules snorted, dropping down as well. Yoongi found himself enjoying their quiet bickering as she grumbled that Joon was such a hypocrite, shooting her down like this. 

They went silent after that and kept moving through what Yoongi now understood to be the “more stable but more destroyed” half of the building. No one said another word as the moved through the rubble, until Namjoon found a small sagging hallway and called over his shoulder. 

“Through here — it's dark flashlights on.” 

Yoongi didn’t have a flashlight. He stuck closer to Jules, nerves racing as darkness grew more omnipresent around him. His only light was pretty much their flashlights. 

“Down here!” Namjoon called softly, dropping down what looked like a several foot drop into what was clearly an old subway area.

Yoongi dropped down, breaths quick as he stuck close to Jules, eyes darting around as he tried to peer through the darkness but instead focused only where their lights shined. Jules stopped her light locking on something shining wryly. 

Another body — a lot more fresh than those guards. The blood still dripped slightly from this guy's throat, which was torn open. Dead glassy eyes stared off to the side. But this wasn’t what made Yoongi stop. What made him stop was the guys clothes. 

A worn down thick khaki jacket and a stained grey shirt, dark muddy blue jeans and torn to shreds boots. Not a soldier. But on his left arm there was a red band wrapped around the cloth on his upper arm. And on that cloth, the firefly symbol shined.

This man was a Firefly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me! It’ll get more interesting soon. It’s a little boring atm — but let me know your thoughts and if you enjoyed it below! As per usual if you want you can follow me on Twitter @_hollow_bone_


	9. Stay Low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea that there are things older than the apocalypse wasn’t really one Yoongi ever thought about. But now he is, and he can’t help but wonder — what exactly was it like. To live and not fear death every second.

Look at his badge, he’s a Firefly.” Jules sighed. Namjoon wandered over next to them and shrugged. 

“Yep. These guys aren’t doing well in or out of the city.” He grumbled, crouching down — not seeming to care that he was standing in a puddle of blood as he rolled the guy over and quickly took the supplies out of the pack his body had been hiding. A small med kit and a bottle of alcohol as well as a lighter. “Let’s hope there’s someone that’s actually  _ alive  _ to meet us at the drop off.” He rolled his eyes before standing. 

They moved towards some old stairs that were blocked off by crumbled rubble and Yoongi remained quiet, thoughts racing with worry. 

The way Namjoon was making it sound like the Firefly’s were on their last legs — just how bad off were they?

He had been so lost in thought he hadn’t even noticed that there was another dead Firefly on the stairs. The guy was also covered in blood, his head leaning against the rubble, eyes closed. Namjoon was calmly reading a note that had been in the guys hand. He read it quietly and then stood, folding the paper and shoving it into his pocket. 

“Looks like they’re from the quarantine zone.” He mumbled. Jules sounded relieved as she growled out. 

“See? They’re not our guys.” Namjoon didn’t respond, instead moving towards what used to be a hallway but was now mostly just a rubble blockage. There was a small entrance on it and Namjoon crouched down, Yoongi and Tess hot on his heels. Yoongi got on his hands and knees to easier fit through. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Namjoon, held out a hand to stop Yoongi’s movement and his blood froze as a clicking shriek ripped through the air, his head snapped up and he stared at the end of the hall where Namjoon’s light was shining. “See him? Right there.” Indeed an infected shambled past, twisting in on itself and snarling at its hands, jaw snapping closed and opening in a clicking sound. 

“Fucking shit we’re almost out.” Jules softly whispered. They crouched down behind an old vending machine. Yoongi crawled after them. Jules peered over it and softly hissed in frustration. 

“Ok, Joon, you take point — I’ll watch the rear.” She breathed softly, and Namjoon nodded, then she turned to Yoongi. 

“Yoongi, you stick to Namjoon — like glue, no matter what happens you stay right on his heels.” She hissed, Yoongi nodded, moving to crawl next to Namjoon but a hard grip on his arm stopped him, the shrieks got louder as the Clicker shambled past the door again and Jules lips pressed against his ear as she whispered. 

“You will make too much noise crouched like that, your legs drag against the floor and you’re unable to jump into a run or quickly stretch up and grab something, stay crouched like me and Namjoon are, and no matter what.” Her breath was hot against Yoongi’s ear and her grip tightened to the point of pain. “If a Clicker moves toward you, suddenly faces you — don’t move — don’t even fucking breath, and never talk.” Then she released him. 

Yoongi awkwardly shifted into the right position, his thighs and back screaming in protest as he followed Namjoon’s careful slow pace, the man had three makeshift knives tucked into his belt and another in his hand. 

It was quiet, and Yoongi could feel the fear mixed with adrenaline pumping through his veins as he followed Namjoon into what had once been a sort of underground subway mall or something. The scent of rotting flesh hung heavy in the air and there were so many shrieks — so many Clickers that Yoongi couldn’t hear anything else, he couldn’t even see them in this blinding darkness. 

Their cries bounced off the walls and only made them seem louder and more brutal. He found his hand tangling in the back of Namjoon’s shirt as they moved, fear making his skin slick with sweat and his breaths more like soft pants. His shirt was surprisingly soft — slightly damp still but it had the comfortable well worn feeling some shirts had. 

Namjoon turned and cast a slight glare at him, Yoongi couldn’t see him with the man’s flashlight pointed in his face, but he thought the heavy frown softened before he turned, not shaking Yoongi’s hand off. 

They moved silently through old benches, Namjoon sank down and curled his head down into his arms as a Clicker shambled past shrieking and snarling. Yoongi copied him easily. 

When it happened — it happened so suddenly Yoongi almost screamed. A Clicker suddenly turned and headed right in their direction, it’s bony hands reaching and sharp snapping snarls biting out, but a hand was firmly forcing his mouth shut and dragging him back — he knew it was Jules and watched in a sort of terrified fascination as Namjoon stood from his crouch and Quickly slammed his makeshift knife up into the Clickers jaw one of it's weak points. It gurgled, as Namjoon slid it to the ground, almost fluorescent red blood spilling from the wound then slumped, and Jules slowly released him. 

They continued down a pathway to the far right of the place, passing lots of old ransacked stores, and infected shuffling through them. And Yoongi really tried to keep himself from pressing right up against Namjoon, but his terror at the situation made him decrease the distance until there was only about a foot of space between them. Luckily the older man never remarked on it — Yoongi was pretty sure he would have panicked if he shook him off. 

They went down the hall and Yoongi nearly sobbed with relief as he realized this was the exit, he could see a ladder leading up to a hole above the exit that had been fenced closed. The only problem was — there was a Clicker right by that ladder. Namjoon pressed a firm hand against Yoongi’s shoulder — an obvious  _ stay _ command, and very very  _ very _ slowly began to creep towards the infected. Yoongi hunkered down, pressing against some cement beside Jules. They both held their breaths. 

Yoongi blinked slowly as Namjoon stood, his hand snapping out and grabbing the Clicker, forcing his arm up under its jaw to keep those snapping teeth closed and slamming another makeshift knife straight into where it's voice box would be. Just like the other, it slid to the ground with a soft gurgle. 

“Come on.” Jules hissed in Yoongi’s ear, creeping to the ladder. She began to climb up it, Yoongi scrambled after her almost desperately hauling himself up, he could feel Namjoon hot on his heels and as he jumped down out of the hole into what used to be an old subway he could hear the man knock the ladder down. It had been in the direct bomb area — and Yoongi could see torn concrete and mangled bits of metal in all directions. The night sky seemed to open like a hungry void.

Namjoon jumped down with a huff, the light catching his dark eyes which were boring intoJules almost accusingly. 

“That was too damn close!” He snapped. Jules sighed, leaning back and bracing her hands on her hips as she looked up at the night sky. 

“We managed.” She groaned and Namjoon glared darkly. 

“Holy shit,” Yoongi wheezed, he was bent over, gasping as he felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. “We actually made it!” He gasped, at the sound of his voice, both adults' eyes snapped to him. Jules looked faintly concerned but mostly amused and Namjoon just looked angry still.

“Everyone okay?” He asked coldly, his eyes locked on Yoongi. Yoongi shrank back. He got the message — Namjoon hadn’t liked how close he had stuck to him back there. 

“Yes!” Jules called, she had already walked to the end of the old tracks and was clambering up the first ledge. “Get a move on!” She yelled back and Namjoon jerked his head at Yoongi in her direction before moving off. 

Yoongi stared at their backs as he followed them up the rubble. 

“You guys are. . .”  _ survivors _ “really good at this stuff.” He called. Namjoon snorted harshly.

“It’s called luck — and it is gonna run out.” He called back darkly. 

_ It’s not luck — it’s skill. _ Yoongi argued fiercely in his head. There was no such thing as luck or fate or  _ any  _ of that bull shit. These guys were alive cause they knew what they were doing and how to do it. Nothing lucky about being tough as nails.

They pulled themselves over the last slope and Yoongi glanced around, noting with some satisfaction that they were now on the ground level. 

“Come on Jules — Which way are we going?” Namjoon barked and Jules straightened, walking forward a few paces as she turned in a circle. 

“Capitol Building is that way, so . . . “ she turned and pointed to an empty street. Grass and bushes growing through the cracks in the ground. “That way.” 

Yoongi walked a few paces behind them, and somehow felt mostly unsurprised to see that the road was blocked about halfway down by what appeared to have once been a blockade of sorts but now was just a pile of rubbish. Cars so rusted and nasty they barely looked like cars, and old rotten wooden posts. Poking through it was bushes and grass but at the top was a mess of curled wires. It looked far too hazardous to climb. 

Jules and Namjoon seemed to have come to the same conclusion as him. They were searching through the old porches and inlays of the buildings lining the street — trying to see if one was open for them to make their way through it around the blockade. Yoongi followed along behind Jules awkwardly— feeling supremely useless and very much like a burden as several times she turned and nearly ran into him. 

“Hey kid.” Namjoon called gruffly, and Yoongi returned eagerly towards him — maybe the older man had something he could do to help. Instead an old clipboard with dry stained paper on it was thrust into his hands. “Read that.” He ordered, then seeing Yoongi’s bewildered look narrowed his eyes. “You know how to read right?” 

Yoongi bristled, glaring up at him. 

“Yes I know how to fucking read!” He snarled, Namjoon glared right back and held up a hand in the universal language of  _ ‘stop’  _ or ‘I’m about to fucking beat your stupid ass’ — but Yoongi had a feeling Namjoon wouldn’t actually strike him. Some people gave off the vibe that they would hit you with the wrong words or expressions. But not Namjoon. Yoongi had the idea it would take a lot more than an over-aggressive attitude and foul language to get someone like him to hit you. 

Unless he was hired to kill you. Then he definitely wouldn’t hesitate— but as that was neither here nor there Yoongi saw no reason to act civilized towards him. 

“Tone it down a bit you brat. I was just making sure that me or Jules wouldn’t have to read it aloud to you.” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at Yoongi and he glared, heat flooding his cheeks and ears before busily looking down at the paper. 

He had thought the man was mocking his education, like he had earlier. 

The paper looked like it was someone’s report they were writing up to bring back to a group. The brown stains on the bottom corner of the notes gave Yoongi the uncomfortable feeling that it had never happened. 

The top of the page had a very bold serious heading. 

**_Studying the Stages of Infection_ **

_ Runner _ _ — Time of Stage; 6 months - 1year — They’re fast and vicious but still rely heavily on sight. The fungus has yet to actually take root in their bodies and for the time being their bones are easily breakable and therefore their heads can easily be crushed. They are in a constant state of high adrenaline and their cries sound more human than any other stage. Even though they can still see they are unable to detect direct beams of light and seem only to be able to detect large movements.  _

_ Stalker _ _ — Time of Stage; 1-3 years — Almost the exact same as Runners, but they seem to be more self aware of their vulnerable skeletal frames and will actively hide and try to ambush you. They don’t make sounds besides the occasional groan. And have larger growths of the Cordyceps Fungus on the skin.  _

_Clicker_ _ — Time of Stage; ??? — The fungus hasn’t grown considerably and is plataded around the face completely covering the eyes, nostrils and skull. Reinforced by a strange drug in the fungus itself they are very fast and very strong. Only setting them on fire, or an accurate shot to the mouth or neck will stop a Clicker. They use echolocation to get around and are extremely sensitive to noise and shifts in air currents.  _

There was another section on the paper — but it had been destroyed by the brown — hopefully not blood — stains. Yoongi stared down at the paper with a slight scowl. 

“Why the fuck didn’t the school teach me this?!” He hissed under his breath. His arm stung faintly, almost like it was taunting his lack of knowledge. 

“This way Yoongi, we can cut through this old museum.” Jules called and he looked up to see that both her and Namjoon were examining an old garage door several yards away from where he was. He tossed the clipboard down with a clatter that ring almost eerily down the street and jogged quickly to where they were. 

He stood back while Namjoon gripped the chain and began to haul the door open. He couldn’t help but think that while all of them had sounded terrifying. It was the Stalker that he was most scared of. The thought of an infected actively hunting him was supremely terrifying and he was positive he’d have nightmares about it later. 

The first shriek of the metal door was teeth clenchingly horrible. Yoongi had always hated the sound of metal on metal but this was somehow worse — with the way it echoed down the street. The door was maybe a fourth of the way up when Yoongi heard it. 

Faint howling shrieks he could barely make out over the sound of the door. Jules stepped back, her eyes peering back the way they had come from anxiously, one hand stretched out towards Namjoon. 

“Wait, wait Joon stop!” She hissed. Namjoon halted instantly, and the sound of the shrieking got louder. Yoongi could make out a slight movement down the street and his heart leapt up into his throat. “Ok double time!” Jules hissed and Namjoon pulled the chain faster, straining harder.

“Crawl under Yoongi!” She snapped and Yoongi moved as fast he could, scrambling under the door then turning to help pull Jules under. 

She grabbed the bottom of the garage and Yoongi stood beside her and did the same — the sound of the shrieks outside was a lot louder now, as Jules and Yoongi strained to hold the heavy door open while Namjoon crawled under, a singular clawed hand grabbed at his shoe as he made it in and at that exact moment Jules and Yoongi dropped the door. Yoongi flinched violently away from it, panting slightly as he stared wide eyed at the door, the sound of things hitting it and faint gutter alp snarls coming from it made him want to throw up.

He looked at Namjoon and breathed, his eyes locked on his feet.

“Ah, you have something on your shoe.” Namjoon glanced down and rolled his eyes, dismissively shaking the severed hand off his ankle. 

“Well that’s that.” Jules groaned. Rubbing her head, Namjoon stalked off without another word, and Yoongi glanced around. An old delivery truck was in the garage as well as a work table and several boxes of tools and things on shelves. Namjoon had stopped at the work table and was busily looking over his stuff, probably for damage, and Yoongi found Jules staring at him, a curious look on her face. 

“So, Avery thinks you’re immune?” She asked, eyes trailing over him. Yoongi nodded slightly, his bite prickling under his shirt. He had been so stressed this past hour or so he hadn’t even registered just how much the skin was aching. 

He rolled up his skin to look at it, fingers trailing slightly over the red bumps and raw areas with a faint wince. Mumbling out his answer. 

“Yeah, I mean. There’s really no other explanation we could come up with. If I wasn’t I would have turned.” He mumbled. Jules hummed an affirmative, a thoughtful look on her face. 

“You’ve never been outside of the zone — how did you even get infected? You must of been somewhere you shouldn’t have.” She grumbled, before gesturing for him to give her his arm. Yoongi shrunk a little, as he slowly extended his arm forward, a terrible stone settling in his stomach. 

“Um yeah, you know I was in the military school, and I mean — the kids, we get. . .” Yoongi wrinkles his nose flinching slightly as Jules pulled a tin of some kind of ointment from her backpack, it had a strong smell, sharp and bitter, she glanced up and gestures for him to continue before gently applying the ointment to the redder areas of skin and the place where the cuts were still open. “W-We get restless. Feel trapped? And a lot of the kids will sneak out. To have fun and relax?” 

Jules nodded, gently moving to put a little more ointment around the wounds and scarring, and Yoongi gasped as a slightly numb sensation slowly spread over his arm. The pain and sensitivity fading. His arm felt almost normal as she calmly bound it tightly with mostly white bandages. She reached back into her backpack, pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen and gestured for him to keep talking as she leaned against the old truck to write. 

“I was in the old mall, when a bunch of infected — you guys would call them runners — they attacked me and yeah. That was that.” He shrugged, hastily rolling his sleeve back down. 

Jules nodded then froze, turning to him. 

“Wait — the  _ mall _ ? That place is completely off-limits — how did you even get in there?” She demanded. Yoongi was a little surprised by her incredulous voice. It had always been so easy — getting into that place. He had assumed that lots of people knew how to get in and the knowledge that it really wasn’t made a strangely proud feeling whelk up in his chest. 

“I have my ways.” He crowed, smiling slightly and Jules eyes flickered over him, assessing and calculating — then coming to a conclusion. She smiled softly. 

“Yes, you do. What happened after you were bitten?” She asked, and Yoongi’s smile fell from his face as the memories of being so sick he thought he was gonna die flooded through him. 

Namjoon had stood back up from the table and gestured at them to follow him through a side door, he gestured impatiently at them to follow him, and Yoongi moved to comply, seeing Jules nearly tuck the note she had written into her backpack. He faced forward and moved on, but as they walked towards the door he realized Jules was still looking at him expectantly. 

“I got sick.” He frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that sick before. I probably should have died.” He shuddered. And Jules nudged his shoulder slightly.

“But you didn’t.” She prompted. 

“No. I passed out in a really cold stream of water and Avery said it kept my fever from killing me and cleaned my wounds of any infection.” He halted suddenly and turned to Jules. “But she doesn’t think that’s why the Cordyceps didn’t affect me. After all — there have been cases of people turning thirty minutes after being bitten and I had been bitten for almost twelve hours at that point.” He quickly explained — this virus wouldn’t have torn the world apart if it just needed to be  _ cleaned _ .

“True. So you went to Avery?.” Jules hummed thoughtfully, then cast him an amused look. “I’m shocked she didn’t just shoot you.” Yoongi shuddered as the memory of Avery staring coldly down at him went through his mind. 

“She almost did.” He admitted. “But I think she hesitated cause I — well I was a mess, and I just kind of . . . begged her to hear me out. I don’t normally— act like that.” He stamped over his explanation. A strong unpleasant feeling welling up in him, it didn’t seem right. Telling all this to Jules. 

He glanced away, subtly stepping back, and turning to look at the room they had entered — he had been so absorbed in talking with Jules he hadn’t even noticed that they had walked through several rooms — both of them mindlessly trailing Namjoon. The elder man was busy glancing through each shattered room, a calm but determined expression on his face. 

Yoongi absorbed the details of the small room that Namjoon was already leaving, trying to catch all the little details as he followed the man. 

The floor was a nice tile that had been water damaged and shattered in several places — there was old rotted display cases against the walls with shattered glass coverings and a rotten desk off to the side. All in all the room looked like something that had been beautiful, like a fresh painting that had been rudely splashed with heavy water. 

Broken and crippled. He shuddered and hurried to the next room, trying to ignore the smell of mildew clogging up the air. 

The next room was even bigger — it had probably once been just as nice as the previous room, but the floor above it had broken and collapsed, sloping down like a strange mistake down to the center of the room, old cement blocks and wooden planks sticking out at odd angles. Yoongi hung back a bit to look at the things that had survived the roof caving in. An old mannequin dressed in strange faded blue and red clothes and several strange pictures hardly distinguishable under the grime coating their surface. 

Oddly enough, a single vibrant blue and white vase still stood proudly on top of an old table. Yoongi moved towards it, enthralled by the weird patterns delicately designed into its smooth surface. It was such a beautiful fragile thing in such a destroyed room. 

Gently he reached out to touch it, his fingers barely breezing over it's smooth surface when a sudden loud snap ripped through the air, Yoongi jumped in shock, his hand shoving the vase, and it tipped and fell. 

He gazed in open mouthed shock as a loud shattering noise ripped through the air. Both Namjoon and Jules turned to glare at him, and Yoongi noticed with alarmed eyes that Jules was gripping her gun. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to?! It just — fell!” He blurted. Both of them relaxed, Namjoon rolled his eyes in frustration.

“Jules!” He snapped from where he was halfway up the sloped roof to the next floor. 

“I know, I’ll watch him.” She groaned. Yoongi felt heat burst through his cheeks as Jules turned to him with a frown. Look, just don't touch anything. Ok?” Yoongi nodded quickly, cheeks still burning. 

He followed them up the slopes roof to the next floor quietly, but upon seeing more old cases with even less destroyed items he couldn’t help but speak out. 

“What  _ is _ this place?” He demanded, starting with an open mouth at a small figurine of an old ship of some sort in a case. Jules stopped beside him and cast him a surprised look. 

“An old museum.” She suddenly grinned, eyes lighting up. “You know, some of this stuff is centuries old.” She confided, and Yoongi felt his mouth drop open. It took a few seconds for that to settle in — the idea that things had existed  _ before _ the world went to shit usually never even crossed his mind. Let alone  _ hundreds  _ of years before the apocalypses 

“No way!” He couldn’t help but blurt our. His first instinct making him believe she was just messing with him. “You are totally shitting me!” He laughed and she laughed as well. 

“Not at all! That painting over there is from the renaissance era.” She grinned and Yoongi whirled to look, staring at a blackened old painting that looked like it had once been covered with glass but that was long gone. 

“No way.” He grinned, stepping forward to trail his fingers over the ruined canvas. The idea that it was  _ hundreds of years old _ sending a jolt of awe through him. The canvas didn’t feel like it was that old. It just felt dirty. 

“Hey Jules! Need your help!” Namjoon’s voice called out. Yoongi jerked back, a jolt of reality hitting him and frowned at the painting before racing after Jules into an old collapsed room, Namjoon had gotten down in a tunnel and had a heavy looking beam propped up on his shoulders. 

“Go on and find something for me to prop this up.” He huffed. Jules nodded and she and Yoongi quickly squeezed out into what looked like an old dining area, they were looking around when Yoongi heard it. 

A faint hollow shrieking noise. Clickers. 

“Oh shit! Jules!” He yelped, his hand ripping out his pocket knife.

“Namjoon!” Jules snapped, turning to her partner but Namjoon had already dropped the beam. 

“Just go! I’ll make my way —!” 

But Yoongi didn’t hear the rest, because Jules had grabbed his arm and was dragging him down a black hallway and away from Namjoon., and the rapidly approaching shrieks, they rounded a corner, the shrieking getting louder and more aggressive and she shoved Yoongi down and under an old desk. 

“Stay here!” She spat, then disappeared from his view, and Yoongi watched in petrified shock as several infected followed hot on her heels. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it’s gonna get more interesting next chapter. Might have some surprises in store 🤩. Tell me what you guys thought of this chapter? Did the ending seem a little rushed — I felt like I rushed it, maybe I should have added more details. Constructive criticism is much appreciated! Also let me know anything that stood out to you! As usual if you wanna talk you can message me on Twitter @_hollow_bone_


	10. Jules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems to Yoongi that everywhere he goes death is sure to follow. Maybe he’s cursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should know! 
> 
> A straight line means a POV change and the dotted line means a time change in the story!

Namjoon wasn’t as young as he used to be, and he knew that with age came the old joke that people were set in their ways. He had always thought it didn’t apply to him, but he supposed he could be wrong. 

Because one thing was certain. He  _ could not  _ stand getting separated from his partner. 

Call him cynical or just plain old pessimistic — but as far as he was concerned, everything went to shit whenever he was separated from a current goal. The object was lost or destroyed — the team was attacked, his partner was attacked, they got injured or bitten or just flat out  _ died _ on him  _ with _ the object. When a deal went south it could take him several days to find their body and recover his shit. 

He scowled into the darkness, the sound of the infected shrieking as they shambled through the abandoned museum grated on his ears. And now it was  _ worse _ . Now if something was to happen the object would be destroyed as well as his partner. He had a lot of faith in Jules but the kid? Not even slightly. 

Sure there was a certain set to the kids jaw and a light in his eyes that told Namjoon he had  _ grit. _ But Namjoon had seen that same clenched jaw and dark eyes in hundreds of other faces. And in almost all of them that light had been shut off. By him or others it didn’t matter, cause it always went out. 

He shook his head, first thing was first. He had to kill these fuckers and then find his goddamn partner and the brat, turn him over to the stupid as all hell Fireflies. (Honestly those guys were so incompetent he didn’t know how they thought they were capable aloof traveling all the way cross country with a child.) then he and Jules could maybe just lay low and just  _ rest _ . 

Jules was right — it was time for them to settle down a bit, and getting rid of this finale burden was the first step in that direction. 

**————————**

Yoongi tried to stay hidden like Jules had told him to but he couldn’t. He had grown up hearing the phrase that  _ movement is life _ and the thought of sitting still like a rat waiting to be shot and cooked over a fire didn’t sit well with him. 

He moved slowly from his hideout, glancing around — this room was dimly lit by the windows around them — the sun starting to rise and casting it's faint syrupy glow over the walls. He could clearly see the paper and trash littering the floor — more destroyed display cases. 

He could hear the sound of Jules fighting with the infected. And could see that about three of them had driven her back into the hall they had just come from. Yoongi could tell one of them was a Clicker. 

It was what was driving her back, Jules eyes were wide with worry and fear and  _ rage _ as she dodged the wild lunges and snapping jaws, hands scrambling at her belt to pull out a new load of ammo for her gun. Yoongi reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife, flicking the blade open, he inhaled sharply. 

_ Aim for the throat. _ And he lunged, racing across the empty room and jumping up, his legs locking around the Clickers waist he hoisted himself up as it shriek and whirled it’s head back at him with a snap of it's jaws. At the same time Yoongi’s blade slammed up into it's jaw, black blood gushing out over his hand. 

Yoongi gagged as the Clicker crumpled, his eyes wide because  _ holy shit he actually killed a Clicker _ — and then Jules voice registered, 

“Yoongi watch it!” She yelled, right as an infected slammed into her. Yoongi turned just in time to dodge an infected lunging toward him with snapping jaws. 

Reflexively his hand slashed out the knife cutting the things face open — it staggered back, momentarily stunned and he turned as he heard more shrieking. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Yoongi shrieked, pure terror rushing through him — four more infected had just crawled through the window. The fear pulsed through his body — and for one dizzying second he felt like he was drowning, then there was a soft snap, and in mere seconds it had cleared again. Cool adrenaline rushing through him as he shoved down his terror. 

Technically— he only had to last till Namjoon got here. Namjoon had the alcohol and the matches. He could light them on fire. 

**————————**

Namjoon huffed a final relieved breath as he quietly dropped the last Clicker to the floor. His shiv had broken and thankfully kept most of the blood off his hand but he’d have to be sure to scrub them clean in a stream or something later. 

He stood, quickly shaking his flashlight to brighten it's dim glow — he had to find Jules and the kid. 

The beams they had crawled under had led directly to a small diner and that diner had led to the hall he was currently standing in. Walking silently with his eyes locked on the ground he took carefully soft steps. Listening intently for any infected. He made his way down the ruined hall and into a large old fashioned stairwell. And halfway up the second flight, he slowed. He could hear a dull snarling and thudding. Like an infected throwing itself harshly against something. 

The thudding was hollow and a faint rattle followed every thud, a door then. Namjoon quietly opened the door to the next floor, carefully sliding forward, his flashlight caught on the figure of a Runner snarling and slamming itself repeatedly against a door at the end of a short hallway. 

Namjoon moved forward quietly, hooking his flashlight onto his backpack strap and walking swiftly down the hall, he could hear more shrieks and human yells from the other side of the door. 

_ Found them.  _ The thought streaked almost grimly through his mind right as he jerked the infected back, firmly grasping it's head between his palms and with a harsh jerk smoothly snapping its neck. He dropped it and it hit the ground with a sickening thud. 

“Get off!” That was Jules, her voice was higher pitched with stress and anger and without a second though Namjoon slammed the door open, his tunnel seemed to narrow in and down on the infected that had Jules pinned against an old desk, a wooden bar she had found barely holding its drooling mouth away from her as they struggled. 

Without any hesitation Namjoon rushed over. He grabbed a thick wooden plank as he ran and right as he made it to them, slammed it against the infected’s head so hard it’s skull crumpled inward, blood splattering them both. 

“Thank God — Joon!” Jules wheezed, straightening, he gripped her arm, casting a quick worried look over her. 

“Are you hurt? Did you get bit?” He hoped she hadn’t. But he had also never seen the tough younger girl look so shaken.

“I’m fine!” She gasped, running her hands over her jeans. 

“Get the fuck back!” The voice was loud and raw, the kid sounded almost like he was snarling just like an infected. 

“Shit the kid!” Jules gasped, she rushed out the half broken door and Namjoon followed. He pulled his gun out of his makeshift holster. He could kill the current infected then they could move on before any more infected were attracted by the sound. 

When he entered the room he paused as he saw the boy. He had ducked under a lunge from the infected, but the movement was clumsy and uncoordinated. Merely the actions of someone trying to survive but didn’t know what they were doing. He staggered, almost losing his balance and an infected lunged towards the boy. 

Namjoon had his gun up, the infected in his sights, and the trigger pulled in seconds. Without any hesitation he turned and shot the other two infected in the room.  _ Great, now I only have eighteen bullets. _

He grabbed the boy's shoulder and hoisted him to his feet. Ignoring the way he jerked away from him with an angry look. He looked around for Jules and saw her looking out a window that led to the fire escape. Her eyes looked hollow and far away, her breathing soft and shallow and a bolt of concern lashed through Namjoon. 

He made his way over to her, carefully avoiding the dead infected, and stopped in front of her. Jules hates when he acted concerned or showed any emotions towards her so he purposely made his voice gruff and annoyed when he spoke. 

“Hey, you good?” He demanded sharply. She inhaled before casting him a dismissive look. 

“I already told you I was. This way.” She jumped out the window, and Namjoon resisted the urge to smile at her back. Yeah she was fine. He turned to call the boy over to him then paused. The kid was rubbing his hands against his pants. Trying to wipe away the black blood that covered them. His breathing was also too fast and shallow like Jules had been. 

There was a dark look in his eyes and with the rising sun Namjoon could see the dark shadows under the kids eyes, the too thin face. His hair fell in awkward locks to frame his face but Namjoon could see a scar that cut his right eyebrow. The look in the kids eyes was all too familiar to him. It was the look someone got when they were remembering something he sat forgotten. If the way he was wiping his hands against his pants — slow and mindless — was anything to go buy, it was probably a really gorey memory. 

“Hey kid.” He snapped, pitching his voice low and hard. The boy jumped before looking up — his eyes focused. “are you ok?” He demanded, a strange look rippled over the kids face before it settled back to that annoyingly upbeat look he had had earlier.

“Define ok.” He grinned, and Namjoon rolled his eyes, but for god knows what reason he decided to humor the kid and go along with whatever he was planning.

“You breathing?” He raised an eyebrow. The boy straightened and inhaled then exhaled, a contemplative look on his face

“Do small panicked breaths count?” He countered and Namjoon turned away from the kid, quickly hoping out the window and onto the fire escape.

“They count!” He called over his shoulder. 

“Then I’m fine!” The boy's voice had a forced cheerful note to his voice and Namjoon shook his head. As he stepped onto the roof Jules tapped his shoulder. 

“Look there’s our building.” She gestured and Namjoon followed her gaze out. A good distance away he could see the large yellow dome of the capitol building. 

“Ugh, that is so far away!” The kid groaned from behind them. Jules turned to quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“We should get there pretty fast, if we crossed to the next roof we’ll technically be past the blockade and out of the infected rich area.” Namjoon didn’t catch the rest of their conversation — he moved to look around the roof, his eyes settled on a very long and heavy looking wooden plank. He picked it up and thunked the wood with his hand. It sounded sturdy enough so with no hesitation he walked back over to the fire escape, sliding the plank over the railing and holding it steady as he made sure it reached the other roof. 

Thank god for the downtown areas' crowded buildings and too small streets, ‘cause a good foot of the plank rested on the other building. 

“Kid,” he called, turning to the boy and Jules, they had been talking quietly and the boy jolted, standing straight and turning to him, he tilted his head in question, before his eyes flicked over the plank and understanding spread over his face. 

**————————**

Yoongi moved towards Namjoon quickly, idly wondering if they were gonna hop from roof to roof all the way to the capitol building. The older man steadied the plank for him as he prepared to step up onto it and said.

“Now you’re gonna want to be careful as you cross because it —“ Yoongi snorted loudly, cutting him off. He could cross a fucking plank, he sent a scathing look towards the guy before quickly and smoothly crossing the gap, as he did the first actual rays of sunlight spread over the morning sky and Yoongi jumped down onto the next roof, moving forward to stare at the sky as it turned beautiful shades of purple pink orange and soft yellow. 

_ Twenty-two sunrises _ . That was how many he had seen sense his last sunrise. And it was still so beautiful. 

“Well, was that everything you were hoping for?” Namjoon asked from beside him, his voice was more quiet and soft, that gruff rumble gone from it to where it was just a smooth southern drawl. Like honey over gravel. Yoongi couldn’t help but smile slightly at the man. 

“Jury’s still out — but you can’t deny the view.” He breathed, turning to look back at the sky. He paused for a second then began to walk to the edge of the roof, barely hearing Jules snap behind him. 

“Listen we’re almost done — just stay focused!” 

Namjoon sighed slightly.

“Yes ma’am.” He rumbled. 

  * **•••••••••••••••••••••••**



It surprisingly didn’t take long for them to cut through the rest of the buildings. They had traveled over and around them easily with only two infected run-ins after that. 

Both of which had been runners and had been so thin even Yoongi would have been able to beat them. Now he watched as Namjoon moved a dumpster so they could climb over a shed and onto the main street right in front of the capitol building. 

Just a few seconds ago Jules had found another dead firefly. The guy had a note on it with a description of Yoongi and Yoongi wasn’t able to suppress the anxiety clobbering through his veins. What if all of them were already dead? But Jules had just given him a stern look. 

“They aren’t all gonna be dead. Everything will be fine Yoongi.” She had assured him, and that was another thing. 

Yoongi liked Jules. She was capable and strong and had shown Yoongi how to properly bind a wound. She joked back sometimes with Yoongi and would poke fun at Namjoon. 

She must have sensed his quiet anxiety even now because she turned to him as Namjoon positioned the dumpster. 

“Hey, I have something for you. For the rest of your trip.” She smiled. Yoongi blinked at her curiously and she dug into her backpack — pulling out a small brown cloth that had been tied with string to form a sack. 

“Open it later but it should be helpful to you.” She grinned, then nimbly jumped on top of the dumpster and then the shed blocking their escape. Yoongi shoved it into his own backpack before following the two adults. 

He rounded the corner of the small alley he dropped down into and froze, his mouth falling open. 

The capitol building was  _ huge _ , and reminded him of those books he had seen depicting old buildings with large columns and sweeping domes. The bright morning light only made it more dazzling. Across from the entrance was a gazebo. But he frowned as another thing caught his eye. 

The street was flooded, which would have been fun except he could see the top of a truck in the water and that was it. 

“I’m, just so it’s out there — I can't swim!” He yelled and Namjoon and Jules both stopped. They cast each other frustrated looks as Yoongi caught up to them. Jules rubbed her face before saying. 

“Ok that’s fine the water looks shallow along the edge here, just hold onto my backpack in case it gets too deep.” She instructed, and Yoongi nodded, reaching toward her and securely wrapping his hand around one of the loops on her backpack. 

They marched into the water with no hesitation and Yoongi gritted hi stretch at how cold it was, his heart beat rapidly as the water steadily rose to his chest level and then even higher, he was vaguely a water that his hands were clutching frantically onto Jules backpack as panicked breaths ripped past his gritted teeth. 

“Easy Yoongi,” Jules murmured. “Look it’s already getting shallow again.” She breathed and Yoongi nodded jerkily. They slowly walked up the steps and out of the water and he quickly released her backpack as she cast him an amused look, his cheeks were hot. 

“Come on!” Namjoon called from ahead of them. Yoongi and Jules quickly jogged up the steps to where he was waiting at the entrance of the building, and with no hesitation They pushed the heavy doors open.

Yoongi wrinkles his nose as dry air heavy with the scent of old blood wafted to meet them. Jules gasped. 

“No!” She yelled rushing forward, and Yoongi glanced at the room with wide eyes. 

The Fireflies were dead. They had clearly set up a little waiting area and had been busy but all seven of them were dead — shot it looked like. They were missing their guns and supplies. Jules was frantically looking over each one's body. “No, no, no!” She hissed frantically, Yoongi turned to Namjoon with wide eyes. 

“What happens now?” He asked, his voice trembling slightly, but Namjoon ignored him, stepping around him to focus on his partner. 

“Jules what are you doing?” He snapped. 

“Maybe-Maybe they had a-uh a map!” She wheezed. Namjoon tossed his hands up in exasperation. 

“What are we doing here? Exactly how far are you planning to take this, huh?” He demanded, voice hard. Jules shot him a desperate look. 

“As far as it needs to go Namjoon!” She yelled, Yoongi stared at her with wide eyes — why was she so . . . frantic? She rounded to face Yoongi and he nervously stepped back. “Where was this lab of theirs?” She asked, and Yoongi felt like knives were being dragged uncomfortably down his skin as both of the adults eyes drilled into him. 

“Oh, Avery never said — she just said that, it was some place out west?” He flinched back a step, but Jules just looked thoughtfully at the dead firefly. Namjoon leaned over slightly, his eyes were heavy with confusion and concern as he looked at his partner. 

“What are we doing here Jules?” He asked softly, his voice pitched in an almost soothing way. “This isn’t us Jules.” He whispered softly. She stiffened, clashing a glare up at him and standing suddenly.

“What do you know about Us? About me?!” She glared shifting her weight from side to side her fists clenched at her sides. Namjoon glared right back, anger bleeding into his tone.

“I know that you are smarter than  _ this! _ ” He snapped, gesturing harshly at the dead around them. Jules laughed.

  
  


“Oh really?” She demanded, then spread her hands in an almost mocking gesture. “Guess what we’re shitty people Joon! We have been for a long time!” Namjoon glared, his jaw tight and his hands clenched.

“No we are survivors!” He snapped, but at the same time as he spoke Jules said, desperation rippling through her voice.

“This our chance —“ But Namjoon cut her off.

“It is  _ over _ Jules!” He yelled, nearly up in her face. “Now we tried! Let’s just go home!” He spit. Jules' jaw tightened and she turned away from him.

“I’m not . . .” Her voice seemed to fail her for a minute. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my last stop” Namjoon gave her a genuinely confused and surprised look. 

“What?” He demanded, voice tight. Jules turned away from him. 

“Our luck had to run out — sooner or later.” She breathed, Yoongi was just as confused as Namjoon, but there was but there was a strangely sinking feeling in his belly. 

“What are you going on about —“ Namjoon reaches out toward Jules and she jerked back as if she had been slapped. 

“No! Don’t touch me!” She snapped, and at those words a jolt of understanding raced through Yoongi. He felt his heart drop and a prickling sadness well up in his throat. But it was shoved back down by shock.

“Holy shit,” He whispered, “She’s infected.” Namjoon gazed at Yoongi with wide eyes for a second, he backed away from Jules slightly as he looked back at her, a soft gasp ripping from his mouth. 

“Joon,” Jules whispered softly but Namjoon just stepped further away, his face going dark and hard and his eyes shadowed. 

“Let me see.” He demanded, his voice sharp. Jules flinched back and he stepped forward. “Show it to me!” Her jaw tightened and she reached up to the collar of her jacket, jerking it to the side. 

The ruined flesh was just as horrible as Yoongi’s. It was oozing blood slightly and Yoongi wandered how he hadn’t noticed the dark spot on her clothes from it. Namjoon had stepped back. His hand went up to push through his hair and he looked at a loss for words.

She laughed bitterly at his expression. 

“Oops, right?” Her voice was tight with barely suppressed tears. But she seemed to shake it off as she turned to Yoongi.

“Give me your arm!” Yoongi hesitantly allowed her to take his arm and she rolled up the sleeve revealing the bandages under it. 

“This was three weeks ago! Namjoon! Three weeks!” She snapped, pointing at it, then dropped his arm and gestured at her own wound. “I was bitten an hour ago and it’s already worse, that is fucking real Joon!” 

She walked over to Namjoon who was staring away from them, his jaw tight. 

“You have got to get this boy to Jin’s! He used to run with this crew and he'll know where to go—“ But Namjoon had bristled up and looked angry.

“No! No fuckibg way, that was  _ your  _ crusade! I am not doing that!” He yelled. 

“Yes you are!” Jules yelled right back, she stepped further into his space, gazing up at him desperately. 

“There has to be enough here that you feel some sort of obligation towards me!” She whispered, then pointed back at Yoongi. “So you get this boy to Jin’s.” 

As she said that the sound of a heavy engine came from outside and she farted to a window. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh . . . “ Yoongi whispered. He could hear a gruff male voice yelling out faintly ‘watch the exit’. 

“They’re here.” Jules breathed, she turned to Namjoon, her hand gripping her gun. “I can buy you some time but you have to move.”

“What?!” Yoongi spat, “You want us to just leave you here?!” She didn’t look at him, her gaze still locked on Namjoon, that silent communication strumming between them. 

“Yes.” She said sharply and Namjoon stepped forward. 

“I can fight.” He snapped, but Jules shoved him hard.

“No! Just go!” She yelled. “Just fucking go!” Namjoon had an expression on his face that Yoongi couldn’t read but he watched as his eyes seemed to become darker.

“There is no way that —“ He began but Jules cut him off. 

“I will not turn into one of those things!” She snapped, then her face turned gentle and pleading. “Come on, make this easy for me.” 

Namjoon backed up, his eyes had gone blank and his face cold. 

“Yoongi,” he snapped and Yoongi jolted, stepping forward his heart heavy with guilt and feeling slightly frantic as he turned to Jules. 

“I’m sorry — I — I didn’t mean for this—“ 

“Get a move on!” Namjoon snapped. Yoongi looked at him with wide eyes and Namjoon glared at him. “I said go!” He snarled, and Yoongi quickly turned and raced to the next room, leaving Jules behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jules. ;-; I really liked her guys. But what did you think of this chapter? Are you excited for more? Let me know below and be sure to leave a judos if you haven’t yet!


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